Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The outcome of the candle event can be compared to those childhood drawings, particularly the widely recognized doodle of a sun. An imperfect circle,uneven yellow lines, and a smiley face in its center. The Madrigals are flawed, just like the imperfect circle. Twelve lines betoken the twelve people who make up this enchanted household. Abuela, the matriarch of Madrigals, no longer yearns for perfection. Instead, picturing a genuine and real image of a family towards the townspeople is valued. Despite the imperfection of each individual or the whole family itself, joyous expression remained.

~☻☹~

The eldest grandchild, Isabela, does things she enjoys now; being away from marriage and showcasing to people what bliss is rather than beauty. Dolores is happily in a one-year relationship with the town’s handsome man, Mariano. The former “bad guy”, Bruno, is now one of the town’s beloved. As for Mirabel, she is happy with being an ungifted Madrigal as she knows for a fact that real gift is how you see yourself beyond what is on the eyes. She saw something special in her by heart, treating it as a gift. In conclusion, the magical family had been and is in liberty and contentment. Except that one theater kid.

Camilo Madrigal. The wonderfully cunning joker who is also compassionate and kind. He's the top performer in Encanto and a big attraction for teenage girls. Though he may appear joyful, playful, and enthusiastic, he is in fact concealing something from everyone, including his Hermana Dolores. Camilo is trapped in a portal that opens into another portal that closes back up on itself. An endless cycle. He wakes up, gets a nice chuckle from everyone around him, goes to sleep, and then starts again from the beginning. He was getting tired of it. He saw his family eventually discover their light and come to appreciate it. Here he is, trapped in that endless portal. He was hoping for a change in direction. For exactly one year, he waited for this wish. And that would soon be granted.

~☻☹~

“Ay!,” exclaimed a wince of a curly-headed boy, rubbing the back of his head that was flicked by his prima’s flowers.

“I told you to hold the banner up, not paint!” Isabela scolded the young trickster who was not enjoying his role of holding up the banner.

“Not my fault being Jose and holding the banner is boring.” He frowned, in the form of Jose, the tall man.

Mirabel, who was currently helping Isabela with painting, chuckled.
“Sometimes, you need to be content about something, ‘Milo. Look at me, ungifted yet born a social butterfly!”

Isabela agreed with her younger hermana’s statement, making more colors for the paint using chlorokinesis. Camilo’s frown only deepened more.
“That doesn’t even relate to my situation, Mira’.”
“Well, it’s because you don’t try to relate it to your situation!”
“And it’s because it is not meant to be related, estúpida!”
“Estúpida? How dare you—“
Mirabel’s argument got cut off when Isabela threw flowers on her mouth, making Camilo burst out in laughter—only to end up being like his prima. The two teens spit out the flowers from their mouths.

“Good. No more distractions.”
Isabela smugly teased, making the two grumble in response. Finally, the exclamation mark of the banner is completely in paint.

“Finalmente, I can rest my dislocated arm!”
The shapeshifter came back to his original form and exaggerated, making Mirabel roll her eyes under her green-framed glasses.

They all got down from the high reach of the arch, imprinting “Welcome to Encanto!”.

“Would you look at that! Such artistic kids!”
Pepa, the weather woman, marveled at Felix, her esposo.

Felix agreed. “Mhm, I bet outsiders will be thrilled by this amazing entrance!”

Mirabel proposed the idea of making this arch to welcome outsiders warmly, in which Abuela allowed. Unbeknownst to the Madrigal family, this simple arch will change a girl’s life.

Somehow later, all Madrigal members walked towards their casita as the sky grew darker. Mirabel was beside her primo who is currently being all confident around girls their age.

“Camilo, you have such a charming smile!!”
A teen girl cooed, making Camilo send a wink before saying, “Only for you, señorita..”

Then, another one praised the “charming” boy.
“You’re so handsome!”
“Querida! It’s a natural thing for me…!”

On the other hand, Mirabel looked at him in disgust. These banters between the cousins were originally dead. They used to be in the same nursery when they were both under five years old. They were inseparable that time. But when Camilo’s ceremony came, they grew separated from each other due to responsibilities. It got worse when Mirabel was revealed to be “ungifted”. Thankfully, their childhood returned when the candle incident happened.

Back in the present, the magical family were at the dining table, chattering and eating the last pieces of Julieta's savoring meals. Suddenly, Abuela raised her glass and clicked her fork a few times into the glass to get the attention of the family. They went silent and looked at Abuela.

“Gracias, mi familia…”

“I hereby announce that our Encanto is growing fast due to outsiders coming in. That is why, we have no choice but to work twice as hard as before. Perdon for the double work, but it is no one’s fault that outsiders kept moving or having vacation here. I want you all to know that all your efforts are seen and appreciated.”

Abuela announced, the family understanding the situation and nodding.

“—That is why I ask for suggestions about making our town more welcoming for outsiders.”

Of course, the bright-minded Mirabel raised her hand and suggested making a vacation place for outsiders who are only visiting here in Encanto. After that suggestion, the family soon worked with ideas and eventually ended with a plan.

~☻☹~

As soon as dinner ended, Camilo, who once had a bright smile, entered his room. He closed his door and let go of the knob, weary.

“Casita, open the lights.”

The complex room lit up. The best way to describe Camilo’s room was a theater. It’s almost a bedroom in a theater room. Mirrors are everywhere, in different shapes and forms. He stood in front of a mirror near his bed, his reflection staring back at him. He clicked his tongue.

“Tsk. Stop frowning. You are Camilo Madrigal. You are meant to be entertaining and cheerful! C’mon..”

He told the mirror, wanting to smile. Later, his reflection is smiling, back in that famous shapeshifter image.

“That’s it, that’s it…”
Camilo murmured. His reflection is happy and he is okay with that. Yellow ruana, replaced with comfortable clothes as he lay down on his bed.

“You can close the lights, casita. Thank you.”

Hazel eyes stared at the ceiling that had yellow, glowing doodles of emotions. A shaky sigh came out of his lips, his eyes now closed.

Only his reflection was happy, not him.

~☻☹~

A week had passed since the “Welcome to Encanto!” arch formed. It was around the late afternoon when new outsiders came to Encanto. This time, it was a family of ten. As expected, they were welcomed by the citizens with smiles and a hint of surprise. It was normal for them to see outsiders after the mountain split into two. However, the family looked different from what they usually see. The new outsiders looked wealthy and were wearing clothes a bit foreign to them. Wherever they walked, eyes were on them.

After a few minutes, the wealthy-looking family stood in front of the casita. The family matriarch knocked on the door, alerting the people inside the household. The strong and buff girl opened the door. Judging by the old matriarch’s appearance, Luisa assumed she was spanish.

“Si, señora?”
She asked the elderly, making her mouth curl upwards.

“Gracias, I need help for the place me and my family will move to.”
“Oh, it’s just a few steps away from our casita—“
Luisa gave instructions to the elderly longer than expected, catching the eye of Madrigal’s own matriarch, Abuela. Her wrinkled eyes widened at the person at her casita’s door. She approached and stood beside her granddaughter as she spoke.

“Leonora?”
“Alma?”

Chapter Text

Faint noises of disappointment passed through a wooden door. Then, a pale, calloused hand turned the knob, allowing the disappointment to be audible for a second.

“Oh, don’t you shut that door, young la—“

Too bad, the raven-head girl that owned the pale hand shut the wooden door with a thud. She locked herself in her room. Hair accessories were removed one by one as dark eyes stared at its reflection. Lips unmoved, frowning and desperate to smile. But not even a crack of a grin appeared. She was lacking emotion.

That “she” is named Jayliah, one of Garcia’s teenagers. Disagreement of permanently leaving her home country, stabbed in her mind—yet, no matter how a situation frustrates her, no emotion was seen.

She let out a sigh and plopped down to her bed, listening to her music tape before she fell into a deep slumber.

~☻☹~

The moment a decision is made, it can no longer be taken back. That is the reason behind why two wrinkled eyes met again after such a long time.

“Leonora?”
“Alma?”

Two ladies engulfed in an enthusiastic, awaited embrace. It may seem like the two matriarchs are old, but they saw each other as young adults because that is what they remember before they bid goodbye. Their eyes met, showing memories of the past, both good and bad.

“Welcome to my town.”
The Madrigal’s matriarch stated, filling the air with nostalgia.

Long time ago, a teenage girl belonging to a wealthy family sat in her family’s carriage. The girl’s name was Leonora Garcia. The Garcia family, a Filipino family, is known for traveling worldwide and has a high status of social class. They are “friends” with the Spaniards, having the advantage to be safe from their harsh treatment.

Years ago, the family visited a town in Colombia and eventually lived there.
“Welcome to my town!”
That was the first words Leonora heard from her soon to be best amiga. They got along, went through the “teenage phase” together, completely brushing off the fact that they have a huge contrast in social class. After seven years, the Garcia family needed to go back to their country for “financial emergency”. That was when their friendship grew apart. Leonora left, unaware of the downfall of that town.

It’s been years since the two saw each other. Their dark hairs now turned gray as they became the “Abuela” and “Lola”. Alma had a family of twelve, leading the magical town despite her old age. Leonora grew a family of ten, still being the same, exaggerating and wealthy woman that collects souvenirs from places she traveled.

It’s beautiful how their “future”came to life. The once ideal family of the matriarchs standing face-to-face, wondering if they’ll end up like them; Wondering if they are making up plans for their future and bringing it to life, like them, who are looking into their “future” today.

Leonora shook her head at her three teenagers.
“Huy! Why are you three just standing there? Mano kayo!”

“How would we do that if you’re blocking th—“
A tall teenage boy’s sarcasm stopped as a young female adult flicked his head. The sarcastic boy sighed and went first in line to do a “mano”.

He approached Abuela, holding the tip of her wrinkled hand before he collided her knuckles in his forehead. The act of respect was repeated by the young female adult, followed by a teenager again. A robotic one. The soft murmurs of “Mano po…” overlapping with the light chuckle of Abuela.

“Leonora, you raised a respectful family…”
“Oh, please! Look at yours!”

The elders complimented their success while the three Garcia youngsters continued the mano. On the other hand, the Madrigal family smiled at them. The weather woman even had a rainbow above her head, making two of the Garcia youngsters widen their eyes, except the robotic teen. When the three were nearing the shapeshifter, he prepared his hand for the mano. Embarrassment.

They reached Camilo who had a confident smile as he kept his hand in the air. The tall teenage boy bursted out laughing, using the giggling, young female adult’s shoulder to let out his laughter.

“Pfft—Hahaha!! We only do that to grown-ups, kaibigan.”

Camilo immediately apologized in embarrassment. Mirabel, who was beside him, was guffawing loudly. The shapeshifter facepalmed.

“It’s okay, we understand. Right, Andres?”
The young female adult elbowed her towering cousin that appeared to be named Andres.

“Mhm, definitely, Liliyah. Right, Jayliah?”
Andres then passed the elbowing chain to Liliyah’s robotic sister. Jayliah wordlessly nodded with a straight face. Camilo raised a brow at her. He, a shapeshifter, would naturally overanalyze physical appearance. He thought Jayliah had a visual, almost like an elegant ghost. But it’s the frown that bothers him. He didn’t know if she was bored, sad, or upset. Jayliah was unreadable. The lack of her eye contact adds up to the difficulty. However, he shook it off of his thoughts.

But Jayliah didn’t.

Turns out, Camilo was not the only deep-observer here. If Camilo is more in studying expression, Jayliah is in emotion.

~☻☹~

“All right, mi amigos y amigas! I present to you..the mighty Madrigal family tree!”

Mirabel joyously opened her clasped hands and put her arms up in the air, proudly presenting the mural painting of her family on the wall. It was the following day after the Garcia family had moved here in Encanto.

“Aye, let’s see if I still remember names.”
Andres approached the wall, pointing at the members’ painted figures one by one. “This lady—is an amazing cook, yeah?”

His finger landed at Mirabel’s mom. The said girl with round glasses nodded her head. Then, he clicked his tongue.

“Is Julie her name?”
“Julieta.”
“Julieta.” He repeated Mirabel’s words and laughed proudfully.
“Told you, Mirabel. I remember stuff easily!”
“Of course, I revealed my mama’s nam—“

Mirabel’s words were cut when Andres spoke, pointing at her dad’s figure this time.
“And this fineeee vested man with amazing hair, amazing glasses, amazing mustache—OW!”
The entranced 16-year old got smacked on the back of his head by Liliyah who is three years older than him.

“Move out of the way!”
Liliyah, in her traditional filipina costume—not too far from Mirabel’s dress, squinted her eyes at the mural, her “art-critique” persona displaying.

Mirabel just sighed in confusion. She is certain Garcias were strange. She approached Andres who was deadpanning his older cousin.

“You remind me of my primo. You know, Camilo?”
She whispered. Andres had to bend his knees down a little due to the huge height difference. He raised his brow, trying to recall who Camilo is.

“Who—“
“Did I hear the oh-so-guapo shapeshifter’s name?”
As if on cue, the iconic yellow ruana appeared from behind. Then, Andres wheezed at realization.

“Kamusta, Camilo! Mano po!”
Andres jokingly did the action on Camilo, who is currently red from embarrassment.

“Hey! Past is past!”
He complained, slapping away the jokester’s hand. This gained amusement from the young group. As the joy erupted in the air, Camilo’s eyes counted heads. One, two, three..

“Wait, where’s the other girl?”
He asked the group, specifically the Garcias. Andres and Liliyah froze in confusion before having an idea who the other girl was.

“Ah! Jayliah? Don’t mind my sister. She’s more of a home-person.”

Camilo wanted to ask why but decided it’s rather disrespectful. On the good side, the four youngsters spent their whole afternoon like genuine friends. He obviously observed the two new faces. For him, Liliyah is an optimistic young adult and an individual who is a potential leader with no fear of being straight-forward. He already saw her as an older sister. For Andres, he could completely visualize himself with him, pranking around the town and earning the title of “troublemakers”. However, he did notice something about Andres. He was good-looking, similar to Mariano, only if he was in his teenage years. Girls were even eyeing Andres but he was eyeing the opposite of girls. There is no minute where Andres stopped talking about “attractive” men. Camilo didn’t mind anyway. The most important thing is that he observed people not for his shapeshifting. He felt real around the Garcias.

One thing kept bothering him though. Even when it’s already past sleep hour, he can’t help but wish for the other Garcia to go out so he could feel more real. He was thinking about how Jayliah was intimidatingly mysterious, wanting to unlock that mystery.

~☻☹~

Indeed, she rarely goes out. Five in the afternoon, Jayliah fed the fishes placed in an aquarium around the Garcia household. She observed the display. She thought the idea of putting fishes and placing them in such a boring tank for amusement was beyond stupid. She may have a blank face, but there’s a lot going on inside her mind, including bashes on random things.

The truth is, Jayliah was distracting herself from her disagreement in living permanently far away from her home country. So, she opened a black-leathered notebook, flipped through the pages, and wrote.

August 11, 1952
Aquariums are nonsense. They make fishes feel like they exist only for display. Besides that, don’t they feel anxiously small when humans tap their fingers on the glass? I regret doing that when I was younger. I even laughed whenever they ran away from my taps. Maybe I’m just overthinking. But that is not my point. My Lola bought this aquarium from her “friend”. Again, it’s so stupid. Why would she purchase an aquarium if she never took care of the fishes? Even the layout of their fake home was hideous. There’s only one plant there and it’s not green. It’s brown and leaves are missing. I find it funny. This aquarium reflects my family. My family is—

The front door opened, her pale hands quickly shutting the black notebook. Andres and Liliyah giggled as they entered Garcia's new home, recalling the events earlier.

“I swear, Lili! We kind of look like Camilo and Mirabel!”
“You’ve eaten too much, Andres.”
“And I’m planning to again. Smell that adobo? Gotta bounce off!” Andres ran for food.

On the other note, Liliyah watched her younger sister feed the fishes quietly. She approached and stared at the display, silhouettes of two sisters— a taller-younger, and a shorter-older, illuminating against the light glow of the small aquarium.

“Messy layout, right?”
Jayliah hesitantly nodded. The older one stifled a slight laugh.
“Let’s eat dinner, Milagrosa.” She raised her arm and ruffled the raven-head’s hair. She walked out towards the dining room.

All Garcias are now eating at the dining table, silently. It was just cold air and complaints of a 29-year old mother named Carmel, spreading on the table. She was utterly annoyed by her son, Niko, who still cannot speak at the age of three. The others agreed, not wanting to cause arguments. Next to Carmel is her husband named Julio, calming down her nerves. Then, here goes Leonora, the matriarch, talking about money again with short replies from her eldest daughter, Amanda. Amanda, also the mother of the two sisters and Carmel, was either agreeing with the matriarch or ranting about behaviors of the townspeople. The second daughter of Leonora, ate wordlessly with her husband; Armani and Ramon are the parents of Andres. If one would describe the family’s dynamic, it is close to the cold war. Each member held anger or stress but chose not to talk about it, looking at the bright side but never resolving issues.

“Jayliah!”
Her mother’s voice snapped away her thoughts. Once Amanda got her attention, she spoke again.

“Get yourself ready tomorrow. Be presentable and smile.”

Chapter Text

Stomps of tsinelas belonging to a moody teenager clicked against the cobbled pavement. She hated going through loud chatters and crowded places. She hated having to carry baskets for food supply, along with a “presentable” appearance. Jayliah was indeed a beautiful girl; pale skin that contrasted her dark hair and eyes. She had a thin body, along with an unusual height for girls her age. It’s only the frown that wasted her visual, they say. Jayliah didn’t care about her appearance anyway, no matter how hard her guardians told her to stop being a stubborn child. She removed the hair accessory that was bugging her and put it on her satchel. She even rolled her skirt up slightly because it bothered her.

“Can’t believe I need to dress up for these excruciatingly noisy people. Their marketing strategies are terrible. Screaming ‘buy this!’, ‘buy that!’ is unnecessary. At that point, people will avoid them because the seller is too annoying. Maybe it’s just me…”

Jayliah spoke in her head. She never talks unless it is needed. Her thoughts remained thoughts, nothing more. Red apples filled her abaca basket before she paid for the exact amount at the seller with no words shared. She avoided doing math or just having a conversation in general. It was a contrast for the curly-headed girl beside her. The curly-headed girl who pushed her green glasses up to her nose.

“How much for three, Señor?”
That girl asked. Jayliah, only walked away and thought again. She wondered how could a human possibly not see the price right beside the apples? Not only that, she found it hilarious that those green glasses didn’t help the girl.

As Jayliah walked around the busy market, she stopped walking when another curly-head was blocking her way. She was about to walk and avoid the debris, but the “debris” walked backwards, accidentally making a collision with her.

~☻☹~

Camilo hated Sundays. Every Sunday, that is the specific day where the market is busy and crowded. He didn’t hate the crowd, but he hated having to put more effort into entertaining people, especially when there’s a huge population of them. And so, there he is, putting up a show again.

“Madrigal! I need another tall person!”
“Camilo, mind if you take care of my baby for a minute?”
“Camilo, can you help me with—“
“Shapeshift to—“
“Madrigal!”, “Madrigal!”, “Madrigal!”

“Gracias for helping me, Camilo!”
“No problem, Señor!”
The curly-head walked backwards from the man, suffocated by the amount of callings of his name, so much that he didn’t notice someone was trying to walk past him. He saw red apples scattering on the ground. Camilo crouched, apologizing and picking up the apples, then standing up and putting them in a woven basket that was in the hold of pale hands.

“I’m so sorry, amiga—“
Then, his eyes finally met the eyes of who he accidentally bumped into. He stopped apologizing and just stared at a specific Garcia, shocked that he actually saw her outside.

“Wait! Aren’t you a Garcia?”
Camilo asked, still surprised that his wishes came true. The apple that rested in his tanned hands, frozen in the air, got eyed by the “home-person”. Jayliah grabbed the apple from the shocked shapeshifter and put it inside her abaca basket.

“Yes.” That was only the response of the robotic girl. Then, she just walked away. But Camilo, as curious a boy he is, followed her.
“You’re Jayliah, right?”
“Yes.”
“Are you tasked to buy supplies?”
“Yes.”
“Do you say anything more than a ‘yes’?”
“Ye—“
The nonchalant girl stopped walking.

“No.”
As expected, she moved her feet and walked away again. Camilo smiled in amusement. He thought Andres and Liliyah were strange. But somehow, Jayliah beat them.

“I’m Camilo.”
He walked in front of her and offered his hand to shake. She only looked down at his hands.

“I know.”
She strolled again, walking past him. He raised his brow and ran after her like a lost puppy.

“It’s nice to be friendly sometimes, y’know?”
Jayliah stopped walking again.
“It’s nice to not be friends with everybody for once. You should do that.”
“...”

Awkward silence filled the two, steady, teenagers. Thank god, a voice erupted in the air.

“Camilo! Where’s the arepa you promised to give me today!?”
The second mischievous teenager shouted from behind, making Camilo turn his head around.

“I forgot to bring, Andres! Later, I’ll steal some! I have business here.”
The shapeshifter shifted his head back to where the blunt girl once stood. He got confused, Jayliah was no longer at sight.

“Such an odd mystery…”
He thought to himself.

~☻☹~

“Bobo! Bobo! Bobo!”
Those words repeated in an overthinking mind. Jayliah let her feet move and lead her somewhere in this unfamiliar town, avoiding bumping into people or avoiding the boys and girls around her age that eyed her. She regretted saying such a mean statement to a stranger. She didn’t expect herself to say that either. Emotions and intrusive thoughts won again.

The sounds of tsinelas clicking on the rough surface slowly emerged into quiet steps in the grass. Jayliah bent her knee and put all her weight in her arm that was atop of one knee. She closed her eyes because of the vision she despised a lot; black flickering of her surroundings and extreme dizziness for only a brief second. Her dark-colored irises were once shown when her eyelids opened, her despised vision replaced with the contrast. She let the air give her calmness, she let the grassy, windy, hill comfort her.

She laid down on the patch of green grass, something rare in her home country. Her heavy breathing had become normal again while she re-thought her actions earlier. Again, Jayliah’s face may seem nonchalant but she had a lot in mind. She cares a lot, even in the tiniest actions she made.

That’s why she hated expressing. Things tend to go the wrong way whenever the robotic girl expresses emotions.

“You’re overreacting.”
A certain voice from her past, that she wanted to forget but cannot, whispered in her ears.

“Stop crying, you’re no child.”
Another one.
“You shouldn’t let your emotions win.”
Another one.
A door closed loudly, sending a loud thud of wood. Jayliah flinched.

...

“Putangin-! My toe!”

Andres winced in pain when his toe hit the corner of Garcia's wooden table. His father, Ramon, sent strict glares.
“Watch your mouth, ‘nak.”

Jayliah hadn’t realized she'd been walking home while she was going deep in her mind. She placed the abaca basket on the said wooden table. Her mother, Amanda, saw the basket. Amanda was going to say something about the fruits Jayliah bought from the market, but the nonchalant girl locked herself in her room.

As usual, she slept off her overwhelmed mind.

~☻☹~

“Such an odd mystery…”
The intrigued boy laid down to his bed, repeating the same line for almost the whole day. Even though Jayliah had said not-so-nice words towards Camilo, he strangely didn’t get offended. He was too distracted by the fact that there’s no movement of muscle in her face. If he thinks of the word “stoicness”, Jayliah will be the first to come into his mind. He stood up from his bed, rummaging through his messy drawer. Then, he held a notebook in his hands; a notebook full of his thoughts. It might be out of character for him to write his mind, but Dolores says this is better than being a prankster. So, he wrote.

August 12, 1952
I can’t believe I manifested! The weird girl popped out of nowhere earlier. Maybe she really is a ghost, I didn’t hear footsteps behind me nor felt someone was behind me! Especially her face, she’s always frowning but not a sad-frown. She was unreadable. Another thing I noticed was that, that Garcia is one-hundred percent blunt with her words. She told me to stop being friends with everyone, and that did not offend me for some reason. I just know that this person will be thrilling to be friends with.

~☻☹~

Bare feet hiked up progressing stairs. The surroundings were plain black and only the stairs visible. The stairs were all clean, perfect, and peaceful. Then, Jayliah put her feet in the air, suddenly creating a mossy step. Panic enveloped her, so she tried hiking up more, only creating a line of steps that grew worse each hike. Jayliah ran upwards in panic until the step became fragile, causing her to fall off at the dark abyss.

She woke up from her dream.

“I need to apologize.”
The girl realized.

Chapter Text

A day represents a step of a continuous stair. The condition of the step depends on your day. If it appears to be a sturdy one, it means there is nothing wrong. When it showed an aging step, it means there was a mistake made. If ignorance emerges, the steps will gradually be weaker and weaker. This was the case of an “apathetic” filipina.

Three days have passed since that awkward meeting happened. Jayliah still felt guilt for her selection of words towards a cheerful shapeshifter. Everyday, the weight of guilt and anxiety grew bigger, like the gradual horrible transformation of the steps. For the past three days, she had been trying to talk and apologize. Unfortunately, whenever she came out of the Garcia household, it felt like a pollution of anxiety for her. Today was no different.

Jayliah clung onto the strap of her satchel, eyes darting around; left, right, left, right. She felt anxious again, but she looked judgemental outside. In other’s perspective, Jayliah’s eyes were plain dead that the bystanders were horrified. Then, the “scary” girl grabbed her cousin’s attention who was strolling around the sunny town.

“Damn, who are you judging this time, ‘insan?”
Andres looked at her weirdly. Jayliah ignored him and was instead terrified by the sight of a person she should be approaching, but kept avoiding.

“Camilo!”
Her eyes widened and quickly turned around and ran away from her responsibility. Andres looked even more confused. To him, his cousin’s “wide eyes” looked like “rolling eyes” and her exclamation of horror as hatred.

“You’re judging him?”
As expected, Jayliah left the scene, in time of the cheeky Madrigal’s arrival. Camilo put his hands on his hips and stood confidently.

“Who’s judging who?”
Andres shook Camilo's shoulders and replied, “Jayliah is judging you!”

The once confident entertainer slouched. ‘Ah, so my theory is correct.’ He thought. For the past three days, he witnessed Jayliah always avoiding his way and “rolling” her eyes at him. He began thinking that she really meant that “don’t be friends with everybody” thing.

“Well...she did roast me days ago. She said—“
He shifted to the girl and quoted monotonously.
“It’s nice to not be friends with everybody for once. You should do that.”
He shifted back and watched his amigo’s reaction.

“Aray. I’m sorry about that, kaibigan.”
Andres then continued in a hushed tone.
“She’s always judging people, that’s why people back in the Philippines avoided her so much...They say she is not well-mannered.”

“...”
His view over Jayliah changed after Andres told him that information. Maybe his first assumptions of her, actually being interesting and not rude was incorrect. However, he masked himself again. “Ok, gossip girl.” Camilo teased.
“Ehem! gossip boy, you mean?”
“U-huh..”
“Well, I kinda want to wear a dress but that’s not the point!”

The two pranksters laughed. Unbeknownst to Andres, the shapeshifter purposely changed the topic since he felt his ego crush slightly. He wanted all of the familiar people to be happy around him. Not that he’s cocky, he simply did not want to fail his role as a Madrigal.

~☻☹~

As for the fugitive, her tsinelas led her standing in
her isolation room. She cracked her knuckles; a formed habit to ease her mind.

“I can’t do it, I can’t do it…,” repeated Jayliah’s thoughts. She listed down people she trusted and could ask help to. Liliyah, just her older sister. But, she shook her head. “No, you are being dependent again.” She rants to her mind, like a scolding mother. As expected, she is stuck with herself. The only person that could get her out of the situation was herself. Her fists tightened as she stressfully sat on her desk, allowing her instinct to do the action. She wrote down her apology, once, twice, thrice—a lot. Finally, when her trash bin overflowed with crumpled papers, she neatly folded the final letter. She went downstairs, seeing Andres holding a nice basket of puto.

“Sige po, Lola. I’ll gladly deliver this to the Madriga—Hey!”
Jayliah snatched the basket from her pinsan’s arms.
“Salamat.”
She flatly acknowledged and went outside her household. The letter was on top of the rice cake pile, the pace of her walk purposely slowed. She had been formulating a perfect statement to hand the basket to the casita, more specifically to a boy her age.

“Magandang hapon, the Garcia family wanted to give this to you all.” That was her ‘perfect’ statement, emphasizing the period in the end. Having a smile and greeting with bliss is so-out of her character. She’d rather get judged for who she is than cringe for the rest of her life.

Simplicity. Ah, yes. That perfect statement is very simple to say. But, here, Jayliah stood, did not say the planned quote but instead mentally cursed for directly asking for Camilo to receive the basket when the door showed a beautiful florist.

“Uh..Oh. Yeah, sure!”
Isabela closed the cool-toned, carved door firmly. The girl on the other side could hear some whispers before the door opened again. The shapeshifter stood with a mischievous smirk, his eyes still closed.

“I heard an admirador called for m-“
Camilo was about to look down but instead had to look up to the girl, who was a few centimeters taller than him. He gulped, swallowing his terror towards the girl.

“Why is she staring at me like that?? Is she gonna say ‘I hope you decided to stop making friends’!? Dios mio, this girl…” The usual, confident and cheeky shapeshifter had once lost his walls around this scary Garcia. He had overthinking eating him alive.

Meanwhile, Jayliah was going through the same thing. She can’t do it.

“Maga-“
The universe gave her the second chance to say the planned statement, yet, words were stuck in her throat. As expected, anxiety followed her.

“Have some-“
Jayliah gulped, but sounded like it was a pause. A comma.
“-puto.”

The scary Garcia shoved the basket into the “confident” Madrigal’s chest, forcing him to hold the basket. Confusion filled his mind.

“Did you just call me puto??”
There she goes, running away from him once more. He sighed and traveled his eyes to the basket. He saw the folded paper, with words written neatly: To Camilo. The mentioned boy pocketed it and went inside the casita.

~☻☹~

Sunlight showered the flowery field; a field where an eleven-year-old plucked any flowers that fell under her favorite color, blue. It was a peaceful alone time for her but whispers ruined it.

The young bystanders giggled at her. They would switch gossips over their nosy ears. “I heard she spilled coffee on Ms. Galang’s uniform!”, “Look at her, Garcia but immoral.”, “That frowning girl is a troublemaker.”

Those were the words Jayliah despised the most. It would piss her off and the word “unfair” would flash in her mind. The nice bouquet of blue flowers broke their stems by the tight grip of her hand. The flowers were broken. Then, she ran away from the bystanders.

“Garcia! I said not to damage the flowers! At Least be thankful I let you pluck like the other students!” An English teacher named Ms. Galang scolded, but ignored by the angry, young teen.

For the hundredth time, Amanda and the teacher talked about her behavior. For the hundredth time, her chest felt heavy from restraining her tears as these words are tattooed to her mind: “Please understand me.”

...

“Again, I am terribly sorry for my intrusive thoughts. Please understand me.”
Those were the last phrases from the letter that Camilo received. Confusion is hitting him like a truck almost everyday. At first, he thought the scary Garcia had a crush on him, based on what Isabela stated. “Primo! You didn’t tell me you already had a tea with the Garcias?” She quoted from when she firmly closed the casita’s door.

Turns out, it was not a confession letter at all. Either way, Camilo was surprised because a girl so “intimidating” had been thinking of her actions for the past days, planned all this and apologized.

“Maybe she is not so bad, afterall…”
The shapeshifter muttered as he kept the letter in his messy drawer. But then again, Andres gossiped something about his cousin being “bad”. He didn’t know where to side. However, he had made up his mind about it. He is going to find out alone.

Camilo strolled his way downstairs towards the dining table. Oddly enough, the Madrigals stared at him.

“Qué?”

…

“¡Mi baby boy, mi hijo..!”
The ginger woman embraced his son, a rainbow above her, sending an emotional breeze to the atmosphere.
“You’re growing up!”
The shapeshifter looked more confused than ever. “Mami, what do you mean?” He asked, patting Pepa’s back.

“Jayliah Garcia is your novia!”
The youngest child, Antonio exclaimed. Panic covered Camilo up.

“QUÉ!?”

Chapter Text

“QUE!?”
Embarrassed, ears flushed the pink of his familia’s assumption.
“No, no, no! Jayliah is not my girlfriend! Where did that come from??”
He waved his hands, frantically, to shoo away misunderstanding.

“You received a basket..”
“And, A letter from her!”
The buff woman, Luisa said, followed by Camilo’s own dad, Felix. Mirabel soon continued.

“In detail, Isa said she specifically called you to receive that basket. There was a letter on top of it too. A letter for you.”
The primadonna who started it all, tittered awkwardly. However, the chismosa—Dolores, chimed in.

“I wouldn’t call Jayliah an admirer. She called my hermano a four-letter derogatory term with an initial P. Hm!”

Jaws reached the floor, except the six-year-old that was being dragged away gently by a “seven-footer”.

“She called you, WHAT?”
Felix fired up in shock and disappointment. His wife approached the sighing shapeshifter, a gray cloud forming.

“ ‘Milo, you shouldn’t talk to someone with bad influence!”
“She’s not—“

Words just piled up Camilo’s statement, words that are mostly questions; “Did she really call you that?”, “She can curse?”, “Does she hate you?”

This is too much. He winced at the questions. At first, he thought Jayliah was cursing at him but he saw the side note of her letter. It read, “Have a nice basket of puto. Hope the Madrigals will like the rice cake”.

“Puto is a rice cake for Filipinos!” That was the simple statement he wanted to exclaim, but the voices of the Madrigals are too loud. He groaned and…

Surely, he can be louder than loud.
“PUTO-“

To his luck, Julieta and Abuela came to the dinner table, holding the prepared dinner. The cook looked horrified while the matriarch had an awful disappointment painted on her face.

“A-Abuela! I meant-“
“Camilo Madrigal. Go to your room. Now.”
There was no way he was going to answer back. So, he left the scene and marched up to his room, eyes following his movements in agape.

When the devastated boy closed his door, he plopped down to his bed, face-first. A shout of mixed emotions was muffled to his sheets before he turned his head to the right, lazily picking up the bad-influence’s neat penmanship. He read it again for distraction.

“Hi. You might find this letter strange coming from me, but I am here to say sorry. Emotions are not my field and things can get bad. For instance, I told you to stop being friends with everyone. I apologize, I did not mean that. Please continue being friendly because that is a you-trait. I am praying to God that your confidence isn’t shattered. If not, I’m hoping that this letter will help you rebuild it. If you see me avoiding you, I don’t hate you. I am embarrassed. I am not great with words either, so that is all that I have to say. Again, I am terribly sorry for my intrusive thoughts. Please understand me.”

Once more, he sighed. Perhaps they really should have a conversation. Their daily routine is one of constant misunderstanding.

~☻☹~

The sun brightened up the afternoon—perhaps, too much brightness. Tiny drops of sweat were trying not to fall off the napping 50-year-old man. His body rested on the hammock under a shade of tree. It was so peaceful not until a sneaky pre-teen approached the unconscious man with a mischievous grin. That sneaky kid was none other than Camilo Madrigal. He was eleven years old when he witnessed the old man—Señor Pérez, harshly throwing sticks on a street cat just because it followed him around.

The prankster had reasons for his actions, and he is not going to let this man sleep soundly. A tree branch tickled Pèrez’s nose. The napping man slapped the branch away, making young Camilo bite back his laughter. His plan worked. Then, he carefully placed his Tia Julieta’s mighty hot sauce on the man’s palm. Of course, he stole this hot sauce that Julieta warned not to play with. It was a failed recipe of hers, accidentally making it too spicy. For sure, it would not heal someone. It will make someone cry and suffer. Camilo tickled Pérez’s nose again, allowing for the man to slide his “seasoned” palm across his face to the side of his mouth. In a matter of one second, he almost fell on his hammock, yelling in pain because of the spiciness of the sauce on his face and mouth. His wrinkled eyes shot open, furiously looking at the boy.

“CAMILO MADRIGAL!”
Señor Pérez shrieked. Having this name spoken in such disgrace, it wasn’t uncommon for the Madrigal’s household.

“CAMILO MADRIGAL! You have done yet another rebellious action! You are a Madrigal, you should be disciplined and behave like one, especially to ancianos! Look at yourself, you are the only different Madrigal in the family. They don’t do reckless things like you do. You are a disappointment in this familia, Camilo!”

Abuela scolded the poor eleven year old. However, for him, it’s more than scolding. It’s a mental anguish. The matriarch walked away and pinched her nose, “Go to your room. You will be receiving extra chores tomorrow.”

Young Camilo bowed his head to the ground, gloomily going to his room that had intricate outlines of a happy shapeshifter. Before he could enter his room, the bow-head—his only sister, Dolores, comfortingly put her hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay, mi hermano?”
The “happy” shapeshifter then put yet another layer of mask as he turned around at Dolores. He smiled, confidentally.

“What can I say? The prankster is okay all the time! Besides, Abuela’s words don’t affect me now! I’m—“

He shifted to the bow-head’s crush, Mariano, before he continued, now in a manly voice.

“A grown man..”
He joked, allowing his hermana to shake her head and laugh in amusement.

“Okay, ‘Milo. I am here if you need me.”
“Oh, mi vida! I need you in my arms tonight!”

She snickered, rolling her eyes at his demeanor. “Drop that act, ‘Milo. Sleep too.”

With that, Dolores left, receiving a buenos
noches from the active boy—in Mariano’s form.

“Noted, amor!”
The eleven-year-old shut his door, shifting back to himself. And in just a matter of seconds, salty tears fell to his freckled cheeks.

“The prankster is okay all the time..”
The poor boy didn’t understand why no one cares about his side, nor his good intentions. He was lying, he’s still scared of Abuela’s scoldings. But he built his image and remained the same. The society’s eyes were accustomed to this Camilo: The Madrigal’s mischievous troublemaker.

~☻☹~

Foam of bubbles appeared on the gentle flow of the afternoon river. There was a crowd, busy cleaning their personal things. In that crowd, the three Garcias sat.

“Andres, can you stop talking about a man’s bicep and help here?”
The eldest among the three, Liliyah, peeved. They were tasked by their Lola Leonora to do the laundry.

“Shut up, sigurista. Let me talk about my passion just like how you talk about your achievements!”
The talkative teen replied. Soon, he got splashed by Liliyah.

“UGH! Para saan ‘yon!?”
“Stop complaining and do the laundry.”
“Wow, so you can command me now? Even if you are three years older—“

The two continued fussing on each other, like a cat and mouse. And the audience was none other than the stoic sister of the mouse. Jayliah was honestly the only one doing the chore properly, squeezing the drenched cloth and putting them in her basket neatly.

She had no time for being bothered by the two arguing Garcias. She kept thinking about her awkwardness a week ago. She just realized he accidentally called someone “puto”. She inwardly scolded herself and untied the bandana wrapped on her head; wanting to be comfortable. Because of the whole situation, the confidence decreased and fear increased. There’s no way she’ll be able to face that Madrigal again!

“Hola, Garcias!”
The shapeshifter approached the trio, having Mirabel following behind him, baskets also on their arms.

‘What? Am I really that unfortunate?’
Jayliah thought.

“Hi, mga idol!” Andres exclaimed back gleefully.
Mirabel greeted Liliyah and Andres with a friendly side-hug, the “scary” Garcia not receiving one. Hazel-green eyes sighted that. So, he greeted her, fully understanding her letter.

“Hello, Jayliah!” He beamed a bright smile. The other three looked at the scene in awe. Meanwhile, Jayliah was already lost in overwhelming thoughts.

‘What the hell am I supposed to do with that? Should I smile—No! I never smile! Maybe a cheerful good afternoon is enough..’
Those were what runs in her mind, but she failed to convert it into words once more.

“Hi.” She monotonously talked, gaining the attention of the three for the second time. They were in complete shock, as if it was their first time seeing her friendly after such a long time—Well, in Liliyah and Andres’ case that is.

But Camilo, he kept up his radiant attitude and even made up a topic to shift the silence.

“Is that the Filipino’s traditional attire?” He pointed at the simple yet elegant dress in Liliyah’s hands, sitting beside Jayliah with a respectful distance. He decided filling up the space between the group and the scary Garcia, enough for neglect to be absent. The neglected girl then took a quick side-glance at the shapeshifter.

‘Strange…’
Her mind whispered.

For the past forty minutes, the merged families kept joking around while doing laundry, like some sort of a genuine circle of friends. Right now, Andres was being himself. He tapped a random boy’s shoulder.

The boy turned around, confused by the tall Garcia. “Look over there!” His index finger pointed behind the pitiful boy.

“Dude, what do you mea-“
His words cut off when Andres’ hand held his chin and mischievously smirked, as if trying to attract the boy—who was completely horrified.

The Madrigals and the Garcias watching from a distance held their laughter, except Jayliah, but she was watching the scene unfold too.

“Hey..” Out of nowhere, his voice sounded manly.
“Erm—Hey?”
And the boy ran away in fear. Finally the audience let out their joy.

“Wh-Did you see his reaction! HAHA!”
Mirabel laughed, along with the group. The robotic girl would only witness them showcasing emotion, quietly putting the washed clothes on the basket. She stood up, carrying the basket.

“Awwh, ‘insan, you’re leaving already?”
Andres choked on his laughter. Jayliah nods, now walking away. Then, Liliyah nudged the choking boy.

“C’mon. Let’s head home too. My mami mentioned sinigang for dinner tonight.”
“Sinigang—Really!? Ok, bye Camilo and Mirabel!”
Andres immediately stood up and catched up with the robotic girl.

“Oh, okay. Adios guys!”
Mirabel smiled at them, waving her hands in the air, her primo copying the gesture.
“Yeah! See you all tomorrow! Bye Jayliah!”
The shapeshifter added, making Mirabel raise her brow while the three Garcias went back to their shelter. In the middle of Mirabel and Camilo’s cleaning up of their laundry, the boy noticed a small piece of maroon cloth. He inspected it and saw this on someone earlier; Jayliah. It was Jayliah’s bandana. Naturally “as a Madrigal”, he carefully pocketed the cloth, planning on returning it back tomorrow.

After they fix their stuff, the two Madrigals began trekking back to their own shelter. The confused curly-hair glanced at the grinning and happy troublemaker.

“What’s with you today?”
“Huh? Oh! Did you finally realize how handsome I am, mi prima?”
Camilo winked, gaining an unimpressed frown from the girl.

“No, you will be hideous in my eyes forever. But anyway! I meant what’s with you and Jayliah today? Just days ago, you’re afraid of her and now you are being so friendly with her? Are you sure the letter is not a love letter?”
Mirabel asked too many questions; too many, but the last question made him groan in annoyance.

“How many times do I have to confirm!? There is nothing romantic between me and her. I was being friendly because I don’t know...there’s something about her letter that moved me. You get what I mean?”

The girl adjusted her green glasses and blinked a few times, wanting him to elaborate.

“No. Unless you tell me about the letter~” She nudged Camilo’s arm.

“I-No. It’s a secret.”
“Why? Is it about love~?”
“No!”
“You will wash the dishes tonight if you don’t tell me.”
“No!”
Camilo stopped in his tracks and ruffled his hair.

“Steal arepas from Tia and I’ll tell you?”
“Deal. I will get you some, not too toasted but not too raw arepa, ‘Milo!”

The shapeshifter rolled his eyes and sighed.
“It was an apology letter for accidentally saying mean words to me.”

Mirabel got even more curious. “Is it the one about put-“

“No! That was different-“
“But that’s not the point, Mira. She told me about having a bad case in handling her emotions. And that she’s not mad at me at all, it’s just her face that says it. And then, wooosh! It’s like a new perspective.”

The girl stared at her primo in amusement. Then, she spoke. “Sometimes, you just realize everything has a reason. Example is Jayliah. I honestly thought she is plain monotonous or...the epitome of a ghost. It made me feel like she’s not one to approach. But I guess, she’s also like us; a human in different font.”

The shapeshifter nodded and smiled.
“Same thoughts…” Camilo spaced out as they continued walking. Suddenly, Mirabel smirked teasingly.

“Everything has a reason, even your ‘moved’ feeling. Wanna know?”
“Mira, I swear—“

“Love~”
She giggled before running away from the annoyed Camilo.

“MIRABEL!”

And the two ran like two childrens.

~☻☹~

August 22, 1952.

The date was written neatly by the ink of someone’s hand. The lamp sets a dim lighting in the cozy bedroom. In a leathered journal, Jayliah wrote.

August 22, 1952.
Today was strange. I felt content after so long. However, the strangest thing is the shapeshifter Madrigal. I thought he hated me after I gave him the letter and accidentally called him a curse word in their native tongue. Just how dumb am I? Now, I’m ten times more confused. Camilo was being nice to me. It was my first time being heard and forgiven. It was really strange but I liked it. Maybe I should start having friends?

…

Should I?

Chapter Text

Another day, another slay. The sun first rose up and the shapeshifter was already awake. Among the cold breeze of the early morning, Camilo strides down to the small yet welcoming town. He reached his destination a few minutes after, the bell ringing as he opened Señora Diaz’s bakery. Inside, a specific Guzmán walked back and forth in speed, mumbling words like: “What if she doesn’t like it?” or “What will her reaction be?”. Camilo sighed and instead greeted Señora Diaz.

“Buen día, Señora! How 's the cake going?”

The woman rolled her eyes, replying, “That man wants to put a whole paragraph on the cake, niño.”

The boy turned his head at Mariano who kept reciting a whole poem for his hermana. It was August thirty-one today, Dolores’ birthday. However, the poem stopped when Camilo put his hands on Mariano’s shoulder.

“Cálmate, will you? A simple happy birthday displayed on the cake is enough. Just recite that longass poem when you give it to her, cuñado!” He cheered, making the man look down at him.

“Cuñado? We’re not even married yet..! Wait, what if I propose to her now? Is that a good birthday gift?—No! That’s too early but at the same time, twenty-three is such an age!”

Mariano kept panicking, while the shapeshifter scratched his head. 

“Dolores is going to love it, Mariano! As long as you are there, she’ll be happy.” He tried to comfort the macho man.

“You think so?”

“Absolutely.”

“So a simple ‘Happy Birthday!’ on the cake good?”

“Absolutely.” Camilo repeats.

“Why do I feel like you are pissed?”

“...”

“Ay, look at the time. We should head to Casita and stand by her door now! Is the cake done, Señora?” He ignored and focused on the cake.

“Sí.” The woman carefully placed the cake on a box before handing it to Camilo, knowing that the birthday girl’s novio would only panic while holding the cake. The shapeshifter wordlessly rushed to go outside, waiting for Mariano to follow.

The two hiked towards the known household. It’s safe to say that they grew a bond where they felt like brothers to one another. Camilo yawned, still sleepy but he would do anything to make his hermana happy. 

“I’m very sorry that I disturbed your sleep, ‘Milo.” Mariano apologized. The boy only shook his head.

“It’s fiiiine! Besides, this is for Dolores. My hermana who bore with my teasing nature for sixteen years.” They both chuckled at that.

“Sí, sí! This is for my woman, my love, my world, my everything!” 

Unfortunately, that speech only earned one chuckle. And that chuckle was from the lovesick man. Camilo stopped walking, looking at the man in cringe. 

“Hey! Stop looking at me like that. You will understand one day, some day.” Mariano patted the teen’s back, almost making him drop the cake, a glare sent on the rambling man.

“Someday, you’ll meet this person and say—She is the one! And then suddenly, you’d be good at poetry because you have your inspiration!”

Camilo rolled his eyes.

“How is that even possible? Might I add, how in the world would you suddenly realize that someone is the one?”

This made Mariano grin. “The universe will decide for that, chico. You don’t even know you were falling in love not until the universe decides for you to acknowledge it. It’s just a matter of embracing it!” 

“Whatever you say, Mariano…”

The brotherly talk between the shapeshifter and the macho man prolonged until they stepped foot to casita. What a beautiful thing to ponder; A year ago, the boy saw this man as a mere Encanto’s charm—in which he liked to mock. Today, he viewed him as his older brother, his “older brother” who’s in a warm group hug with his hermana early in the morning.

There is more than meets the eye of judgment.

In the embrace of three people, one sighed, preparing for the upcoming busy day. “Here we go again..:”

~☻☹~

—♪♫ Queen - Under Pressure ♫♪

It’s not like he hates birthdays. Of course, Camilo wants Dolores to be happy on her special day. It’s the piling tasks bothering him.

If he is correct, he already did twenty-five tasks in seven hours of the day. He does not complain, he wants— needs to be responsible. He took a break on a fountain located at the town’s heart. Children are laughing under the heat of the sun, throwing coins on the water.

“I wish to be a chef!”

One of them dreamed, followed by a snarky reply from another kid.

“Being a tailor is better and more useful!”

“No, a teacher is the best!”

The kids by the distance argued, making the curly-head shapeshifter giggle quietly. Until he pondered about his dream. He did not know his dream. ‘Should I be a teacher too? No, I lack a brain.’ He thought. ‘An artist? A baker?’ He kept thinking of possible careers. There was no answer, instead, a question that lingered in his head.

‘ Is being a Madrigal a dream? Is it because my life is good already? ’

He lied about having a good life. Camilo hated it. He hated having to shapeshift everyday to impress and make layers and layers of masks he wore; a comedian. Jealousy. He felt jealousy towards the normal children who had a dream at such a young age. While he’s there, stuck as a Madrigal. He didn’t have a dream, but he had a wish. He wished to escape from being under the pressure. He wished that he could not have “Madrigal” as his last name anymore . 

A coin on his thumb nearly got thrown off the wishing fountain, but it was saved by Isabela’s angry remark.

“Camilo Madrigal! I’ve been calling you for like—ten times already! Abuela says you need to help with the banner!”

The still-primadonna-girl scolded the teen. 

“Dios, ¡bien,bien! I’m coming.”

He pockets the coin—or rather his last name . It seems to be impossible to grant his wish because his responsibility is too powerful.

…

Also under the heat of the sun, Garcia’s house stood on a tree-filled land. And also under the pressure, Jayliah tried her best to keep her mouth shut.

Her mother, Amanda was in her room, throwing different designs of dress on her bed.

“The dark skirt suits you, don’t you think ‘nak? You must wear it for the birthday gathering tonight.”

Amanda demands, while the girl stood there, hiding her thoughts because she knows it will not end well if she spoke about her feelings. ‘How dumb. It is not my birthday to look presentable anyway.’ She thought.

Jayliah’s black-colored eyes followed her mother’s movements, watching her put the pañuelo on her shoulders. 

“Wear this pañuelo and that dark saya later, okay?” The mother sent a smile at her towering youngest daughter before she left, leaving a gap at the door just to say,

“Get that frown away too. I do not want any issues with you again.”

The wooden door made a soft thud, in contrast of Jayliah’s aggressive removing of her pañuelo. Her penmanship blended with her pure emotions came inked to her diary. If she cannot express properly in appearance, she can write. 

The teen girl is very much not in favor of wearing eye-catching attire. She did not want to steal the spotlight only to look “decent” for everyone. Even so, she just wanted to sleep on her bed all day and do nothing. But Jayliah knew it’s impossible. She can’t risk letting it happen again.

…

In front of the lively, busting Casita, Jayliah covered half of her face with her abanico. Hair tied in a neat bun, supported by her panyeta.The white pañuelo consists of small embroidery of beige flowers as well as her black palda, but white stitches. Unwanted eyes traveled to her, probably because of the too-elegant attire. A step from the bothered girl was supposed to be made, but she zoned out, remembering a memory.

~☻☹~

A year ago, in a small town somewhere in the Philippines, an event happened. Everyone was celebrating independence day on the twelfth of June. By the heart of the lively yet mysterious town, a group of dancers from a prestigious school danced. Cariñosa.

One of the dancers is Jayliah, eyes filled with immense anger as her eyes bore deep into the soul of her dance partner. She despised him and she is in utter disgust when a hand wraps around her waist. That dance partner, Joaquin, grinned at her. A devil in disguise .

 By the end of the dance, he pulled Jayliah close to him, one hand on her hip and one holding her wrists together. 

“Let go!” She begged, madly. If there is one emotion she can show, it’s anger. Specifically towards men.  Joaquin only smirked and pulled her in a forced hug, an act for their parents who are currently on the watch with proud faces. Jayliah tried to wiggle out but the boy held him tightly, then whispered in her ear.

“You have done such an issue. Do you want to be like her too?” He said, his hand lowering from her hip to thigh. The girl froze in place. That question made her anger transform into something else. A blend of revenge, disgust and rage.

“No.” Jayliah whispered back, the cold face—definitely not a robotic one—still on her face. She moved with strength to distract Joaquin, in which she succeeded. After that, a deserving kick in the crotch happened. The boy stumbled back, releasing Jayliah, wincing. Unfortunately for him, the girl was not done yet. She threw a punch straight on his nose.

“Don’t ever come near her or me!” She shouted, about to throw another one at the weakened Joaquin when Garcia’s matriarch called for her name.

“JAYLIAH GARCIA! TIGILAN MO ‘YAN!”

As if on autopilot, the teen girl’s face went back in neutral mode; her expressionless face. Her wrist was yet abused again, having her Lola Leonora dragging her to their huge house.

“Lock yourself in your room. You are not allowed to eat until lunch tomorrow.” Leonora demanded. Jayliah obeyed in silent hatred. To her disliking, her mother sat at the edge of her bed, arms crossed.

“You did it again. What were you thinking, ‘nak? Joaquin is the son of Kapitan! And you are ruining our reputation once more, Milagrosa!”

Nails dug into the heated teenager’s palms. 

“Don’t call me that-“

“Who told you to answer-“

“Who are you to not let me speak?”

Amanda’s forehead scrunched more, before she raised her arm, targeting for who she calls a “daughter”.

In defense, she put her arms to protect her terrified face.

“Jayliah!”

~☻☹~

“Jayliah!”

“What are you doing? You’re like a statue right now.” 

Amongst the crowd who entered the casita, Andres looked at her cousin in a weird way. Who would not get weirded out when a girl, in the middle of bustling people, had her arms up to her face for no reason ? Jayliah shook her head and went back to a normal stance.

“Patawad, your face looks hideous. That’s why.”

With that, she strolled towards the birthday celebration of Encanto’s chismosa, leaving the boy in an offended look. 

“Hoy!- Don’t just walk away from me!” He tailed behind his cousin—who had an age two months older than Andres. As usual, Jayliah kept a straight face and ignored.

They reached the entrance of the warm home. In that area, the boy-in-duty stood. His eyes set to Jayliah, who gently flapped her abanico. It was hot, that’s the one and only reason. Nothing more . Camilo prepared a friendly greeting for her, but that was stolen by the tall boy behind the elegant girl.

Andres jumped slightly and stood in front of the shapeshifter and shook his hand, that was meant for Jayliah. “Ayee, that’s my kumpare right here!”

Camilo let it happen anyway, with a chuckle and a side-hug for Andres—which was so difficult for him that he needed to transform to Jose. “Magandang gabi, Andres. Have a pleasant party later.” He greets, having an accent for attempting to say a Filipino phrase.

Andres smirked in amusement. “Wow, you can be my Filipino teacher, ‘Milo.” The curly-head rolled his eyes playfully as he watched Andres go inside. But, his eyes dropped somewhere else. He instead observed Jayliah who walked in the casita already. He still thinks she is strange , especially after seeing her stand like a statue with a weird pose.

…

Inside the loud, cheerful party, Camilo was occupied again. He put up a shapeshifting show for the audience again. It is working, but he’s not healing. 

On the quiet railings of the open-area, Jayliah drank a nice cup of iced-coffee she found. She was busy too, busy analyzing things. Her eyes drifted to the night sky, admiring the moon. 

‘The moon is pretty; much prettier than the hot-tempered sun that will probably explode a millennium years later. I wonder if someone will see me how I see the moon.’ She quoted, in mind.

A wave of cold air came in, flourishing the almost-empty halls in which the Madrigal’s  rooms are built. Jayliah closed her eyes, letting the beauty of nature connect with her. Suddenly, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Hola, hermosa. You look peaceful as the moon. Would you care for a dance?”

A random boy said, making kissy-kissy faces. The girl looked at him weirdly. She remembered him. He was the poor guy that Andres tried to victimize with his “charming” antics.

‘This idiot is worse than Andres himself.’ She talked with her mind. A second later, she walked away quickly from the boy.

That definitely wasn’t her moon-pondering earlier . She steadied the phase of her breath after she ran away from the boy. She stood on the other side of the balcony, now having a great angle of the shapeshifter’s show. She watched, quietly.

“And then-“

Camilo shifted to Bruno.

“Suddenly, the threatening five-foot tío revived from the black void!” He laughed, evilly. The crowd giggled in amusement.

She thought he was strange. The way his smile in her eyes felt force is enough to radiate that there is something hidden. He was stiff, she thought. Sometimes, Jayliah wondered how the shapeshifter could not get tired after hearing the same laughs, same reactions of people. 

‘Are those people seeing Camilo the same as well? Like the same prankster who’s also the town’s show?’ The girl wondered. However, she saw the prankster look up at her. ‘Gago!’

She ducked and hid behind a potted plant. How in the heck will she make new friends if she’s like this? Hiding from opportunities.

…

Meanwhile, on the other perspective, Camilo finished his small show. He could feel eyes watching him from afar. He let his guts win until his eyes darted on the balcony. Nothing. Weird, he thought. He shook his head and continued on, walking away towards the party.

On the balcony, the older artist analyzed the carved doors. Liliyah was that older artist. She was a perfectionist, too much that she noticed something misplaced in front of her.

“What are you doing behind that plant, Jayliah?”

Jayliah, who was wearing elegant attire and one who also hid behind the plant, stood up immediately.

“Hiding from men.” She lied—Well, partly..

Her older sister chuckled at her before she looped her hand around the younger-taller’s arm.

“Come with me. I’ll make sure no boys will approach you.” Liliyah said.

~☻☹~

Midnight struck and the two families stood face-to-face again.

“I’m excited for the next event, Alma.”

Leonora shook hands with the Madrigal’s matriarch.

“You, especially your family, are always welcome in our casita, amiga!”

“Now, why won’t our families send goodbyes for the night?” Abuela suggested, gaining a scoff from Andres.

“What are we? Some sort of dolls-“ He whispered in Liliyah’s ear. She elbowed him on his sides lightly. “Shut up. The Madrigals are being polite right now.” 

Beside the two Garcias, Jayliah stood there, ready to go home and sleep on her nice, fluffy bed. She was impatient and thought the Madrigals were going too slow, especially after Andres pulled out one of his antics again.

“Mano, Camilo.” He said, in a mocking old man voice. The shapeshifter laughed and got along with the inside joke. He brought Andres’ confident hands on his forehead.

“Steal food tomorrow?” Camilo recommends to his fellow troublemaker. “Definitely.”

The excited curly-head then went to Liliyah, and sent her a salute confidently. 

Now, he went to this..strange girl. All of the sudden, he went unconfident.

‘Gosh, why is everything awkward with her?’

He thought, so he made his default greeting. He offered his hand to shake, in which Jayliah shook for like—one second and let go immediately. The two shook their heads in unison, as if brushing away the awkward interaction. It’s like if one of them is awkward, the other will be like that too. Resonance, sort of..

After the whole greeting was finished, the Madrigals bid goodbye to the Garcias one last time.

Camilo felt a tug on his sides. It was Mirabel.

“Saw that interaction, primo.” She teased, making Camilo glare.

“What? I’m not implying anything..! I understand, I’m awkward with Jayliah too.” Mirabel excused.  

Speaking of Jayliah..

“Prima, I forgot something!” Camilo exclaimed.

…

Somewhere on a bright-hued room, a maroon bandana was hung on one of a million mirrors of the shapeshifter.

Chapter Text

Panicked eyes searched for something sharp, something enough to leak red from a fragile skin. He found a knife across the kitchen, hanging on the wall. He saw his reflection on it; his eyes sore from crying, his lips dry. It was as if that knife was meant for him. He grabbed the knife with shaking hands.

“Stop crying, stop crying…,” he sobbed. And then, he slowly and agonizingly pierced the sharp edge of his knife onto his—

Knock! Knock!

…

Annoyed, Jayliah rolled her eyes. She inserted her bookmark at the page of her book. With a soft thud, her book shut close. Ruining a momentum, especially when the “good” part of the book is one of Jayliah’s pet peeves. She carefully stepped down to Garcia’s wooden staircase. She fed the fishes in the “bad aquarium” before she unlocked the millions of security on the door.

Turns out, the species who ruined her reading momentum was none other than the shapeshifter, holding a basket of arepas.

‘How familiar.’ The girl who stood like a robot, thought. The shapeshifter had to look up slightly due to their height difference, making the cheeky Madrigal fix his posture.

“Hola, Jayliah! The Madrigals thank the Garcias for attending yesterday’s party.” Camilo greets, slightly pushing the basket to her. She carefully accepted the basket.

“Thanks.” Jayliah, with no emotions said. Here goes the awkward silence again. The boy cleared his throat.

“Erm—I also hung your bandana in the basket. You left it on the river the other day..” Meanwhile, the girl only stared at him in confusion—which appeared like a death threat to Camilo. Jayliah is confused because she thinks Camilo is strange, having that much of a confidence to talk to her and be nice to her. She’s been noticing it since the laundry day on the river. It was so odd.

“Why are you being nice to me?” She asked, neatly folding her bandana and resting it on her arm. The shapeshifter rubbed the back of his head. He was so scared of Jayliah’s expression. But then again, he knew her reasons.

“Is it a bad thing or..”

“No. I’m curious.” For what felt like a long time, Jayliah felt like she didn’t need to overthink of how people think of her expressions—or rather, “inexpressiveness”.

“It’s all about the letter.”

“...”

“Okay.” She simply answered and prepared herself to close the door.

’Do it, idiota! Do it!’

“Wait!” Camilo held the door open. 

“Your sister said you always stay at home. Don’t you find it boring?—I mean! You’re invited to me , Andres, and Mirabel’s daily hangouts..”

Jayliah froze. She didn’t want to hang out with people, but it would be so mean to turn down a nice offer. 

“Sure.” The door closed. 

Maybe she does need to start having friends again.

~☻☹~

Mirabel knew her primo’s tactics in luring her into his pranks, but she still gets tricked. 

“Camilo, I’m not enjoying this!” She groaned, as they hid in a bush.

“Oh come on, Mira’! That kid hurt a fellow kid.” He answered, followed by Andres.

“Yeah, the poor kid needs to be justified!” 

Mirabel’s eyes went unamused at Andres’ statement.

“By scaring the other kid off?”

“It’s the only way! Besides, Jayliah enjoys it too.”

Andres then shook Jayliah’s shoulders. Leaves on the bush were only plucked by the bored teen. She was dragged by her cousin too and she definitely did not want to be here. 

“See, Mira?” Camilo jokes, making the other trickster snort. Mirabel pinched her nose bridge and backed out of the silly prank. 

“I was just joking!” The shapeshifter exclaimed, biting back a teasing smile.

Jayliah’s head perked at Mirabel. Quickly, she stood up and followed her actions.

“Not you too!?” Andres wheezed and returned his attention to Camilo again.

“Tsk. Girls.” 

…

“Tsk, boys. They do questionable, weird things that do not result in any good outcome. Don’t you think so, Jayliah?” Mirabel turned around to the girl who didn’t actually plan on following her. In fact, Jayliah tried to go the other way. 

“Yes.” She fixed her stance. The curly-head with green glasses smiled. Realization hits. 

‘Huh? This was the girl I called dumb at the market!’ At that moment, the robotic girl wanted to be sucked by a quicksand. Out of guilt, she spoke.

“Sorry.”

This time, Mirabel turned her whole body to Jayliah.

“For what?”

“I judged you and called you dumb before.” She admits, straight-forward. Must have been Liliyah’s influence.

Meanwhile, the Madrigal looked surprised. This was the first time she witnessed pure honesty. She laughed and somehow, that felt comforting to Jayliah.

“You’re one of a kind, aren’t you? It’s okay. Camilo told me about your letter.”

Jayliah blinked a lot; a habit she does whenever she feels shy or flustered. She completely ignored the fact that the shapeshifter spilled something big. She was too taken aback that a literal Madrigal girl made her special.

“Thanks.” She stared down to the ground. Mirabel then went to her side.

“So, Liliyah said you’re an artist. Maybe we can relate in that field. I do embroidery!” 

Jayliah cleared her throat and looked down at her shyly.

“Yes. I sketch and paint.”

“Really? We should do an art trade or something!” 

Jayliah kept a straight, monotone face in public, but she was so touched. With that, the two artists walked side-to-side.

There is something about girls complimenting girls. It seems so...genuine, more than a boy who calls you pretty. Well, at least that is how Jayliah thinks. Stupid past.

~☻☹~

A page of Jayliah’s journal;

September 3, 1952

I made a friend yesterday. She’s Mirabel. She gave me a hand-knitted blob of a black cat. She told me she reminds me of it; mistaken as a bad thing but is actually a sweet character. Maybe I should draw a portrait for her as a sign of gratitude. Yeah, I should do that. Today, I’m going to ‘borrow’ money from my mother—she would think it’s Andres’ shenanigans anyway. I will buy paint and a small canvas for Mirabel. 

I think friends are my muse because I can finally paint again after months of not doing so. I remember when I painted with Marie. Strange how her and Mirabel’s name starts with the letter M. They almost act similar. 

…

It’s a new day, new routine. Jayliah left her house for her own good. She squeezed in the bustling crowd, eager to arrive at the art store her older sister recommended. Her satchel stored “borrowed” money from Amanda. Finally, she slid open the door of the art store.

“Good morning, chica! What are you looking for?” 

Jayliah shot a glance at the seller. Encanto's local artist, Fernan—a man around 50s with gray hair and a bit of wrinkles showing as he smiled widely. ‘He looks unharmful. But I don’t trust him.’ The girl thought before she replied to Fernan,

“Art materials.”

The man laughed.

“Chica, art is a whole universe! What specifically?” 

She ignored, staring like a critique at the color choices. She put the list of materials on her basket and went to the counter. Fernan decided to be quiet too as he checked the prices.

Ring! A man with their five year old daughter entered the shop. 

“What color would you like for your wall, mi hija?” The father said.

“Pink! Pink!” The daughter replied, her arms hugging her father’s leg and jumping excitedly. Jayliah’s eyes softened, a feeling of longing. 

“Here are your‘art materials’, chica.” Fernan announced, allowing Jayliah to snap out of her thoughts and be back to her normal state. 

“Thanks.” She exited the store, walking past the father and daughter. Unbeknownst to her, someone in that store also felt the feeling of longing. Fernan sighed.

~☻☹~

“This is the complete opposite of casita..” The shapeshifter mumbled, jaws agape. 

“Depressing house, right?” Andres snickered as he toured Camilo on the Garcia’s household. 

“Not really. It’s like..If war was a house.” 

Camilo replies, making the two laugh like total crackheads.

As they walked on the hallway filled with photo frames, a three-year-old bumped on Camilo’s legs. He smiled and crouched down.

“And who’s this little one over here, eh?” He offered a high-five.

“...” The three year old only stared, coldly. How familiar…

“Oops, sorry. Niko’s a bit of a cold one. It’s hard to get his trust.” Andres confirmed before Niko did a tiny run.

“Pssh—Watch me gain his trust, amigo.” Camilo boasts and runs after the kid.

“I’m gonna get ya’ Niko—!“ He stopped. Niko hid behind the scary Garcia. 

“Oh. Hi Jayliah! Looking like a world war photograph with your brother, huh? You two have the same frown!” He joked. Jayliah blinked.

“Nephew.” She corrected before she grabbed Niko’s hand and prepared to go upstairs, hands full of art materials.

“Insan, where are you going! Help me tour this Madrigal!” Andres exclaimed and shook the shapeshifter’s shoulders.

“No.” She bluntly replied. But, Andres followed like a lost puppy, dragging Camilo with him. The three hiked upstairs.

“I need at least one person who is calm and collected, Jayliah!” The tall boy whined while Jayliah opened a wooden door.

“Ate Carmel, your child.” She called and gently pushed Niko inside before closing the door. As always, she keeps herself busy to ignore Andres. 

“Please please please please-Pst! ‘Milo, join me!” He encouraged the busy shapeshifter who was looking around the house. “Oh. Okay.”

“Please please please please please please-“ The two jokesters followed the poor girl until she reached the door by the end of the second floor. 

“No.” She said once again and shut the door right on their faces.

“Damn..” Andres mumbled before the two laughed again.

~☻☹~

He didn’t plan on staying longer here. But dinner came and he couldn’t turn down an offer from the Garcia family, specifically Leonora, their matriarch. He gulped, suffocated by the cold air of Garicia’s family dinner. They were not talking at all, not until the old woman spoke.

“So, how does a Madrigal’s dinner work?” She asked, smiling. This gained a sneaky glance from Jayliah.‘Tsk. Here we go again.’

“Uh..Just the usual, Señora—Heh..” Camilo continues nervously.

“Abuela often clicks her fork with her glass to announce something before we eat..”

Th Garcia’s matriarch nods. “How warm.” 

Quiet again.

…

Camilo finally understood why Liliyah and Andres often went outside. He didn’t like the silence here and it’s clearly the same case with them. It was intimidating and felt like there was a silent hatred going on. And he finally understood why Jayliah frowns. She became the human embodiment of Garcia's atmosphere; cold, intimidating, and scary. He stared at Jayliah with a random burst of pity, then to Liliyah, then to Andres.

He didn’t know there could be worse than his old family tradition.

Chapter Text

They were the imperfect doodle of the sun, while they were the bad aquarium inside their home.

Jayliah made a routine of feeding the fishes on the Garcia’s display. She doesn’t want those tiny creatures to die. So, she provided food every day, every night. She wanted to fix the aquarium badly but she had no money—Similar to how she’s been trying to fix her family . But her efforts, her voice—it’s all blocked by an indestructible wall . They do not care about her solutions; only taken as “reckless” actions. They cared more about this indestructible wall which is hope . They knew they had failed in the past so they focused on working to achieve this “hope”; too much work that it turned to greed . The Garcias are finding hope the wrong way, and Jayliah is desperate to open their eyes about it. 

Clink! The sound of a fork against Leonora’s glass gained attention.

“Listen up, Garcias! Before we eat, I must announce that starting from now on, rules are set during—…..”

Jayliah did not listen as she ate the dry meal with the dry family.

She thought: ‘Bla, bla, bla..such a copycat, such a social climber.’

She gazed at Liliyah and Andres who came home from the bustling town just now.

“Hi ma, hi pa!” Andres greets his parents jokingly, sitting on the dining table late, along with Liliyah.

“—And one rule is that no one shall be late during meals.” Leonora continued, making the two smile apologetically.

“Sorry, Lola.”

Jayliah still gazed at them. She knew something that they didn’t know. Liliyah and Andres; since childhood, they always go outside to socialize, being the perfect image for the family. What they didn’t know is—They had always been like that because it’s an escape from the fact that this family is broken. So, they keep up a smile out there, ignoring problems and moving on although it’s unsolved yet. 

Her sister Liliyah is like that. ‘Messy layout, right?’ She only comments about how bad the aquarium is, but not doing anything about it, as if accepting that there would be no change. They’re all the same , she thought. 

That’s why Jayliah is different from them. She’s a bad aquarium herself ; cold, angry, and alone. She never ignored the problems happening within her family. She calls for action but they ignore her, just like how they ignore those problems. She does so much for the family that maybe, they considered her as a “problem” too. A troublemaker, a reckless daughter, a scary teen who lacks emotions. That’s how everyone sees her. When in reality, she’s just human.

And so, here she is, eating silently with no one to understand her. She’s all alone, no matter how many times she says, “ Please understand me. ”

~☻☹~

Since the dinner with the Garcias, he felt conscious. He, Camilo, feels guilty for wishing to let go of his responsibility which was having “Madrigal” as his last name. He didn’t know there could be worse than his responsibility. He felt really bad for the Garcias, especially those who were a mere kid or a teenager like him. So, he put ten times more effort on being a shapeshifter today.

The shapeshifter took a break under the shade of a tree. He sighed,

“Dios Mio...What act of kindness is this?”

It’s not kindness.

He was exhausted after smiling and helping too much for his liking. And he guessed his mami’s mood is the opposite of his. It was bright and sunny and it didn’t help with the situation. He groaned, dusting his yellow poncho as he stood, ready to gulp down gallons of ice-cold water.

 As he drank, someone dragged him by arm.

“Ay—! Andres, don’t spill my water!” Camilo complained.

“Kumpare, help me choose a polo! Maybe I can catch some boys’ attention..” The tall boy winked and laughed maniacally. 

“Hay..” he sighed.

…

Camilo now stood outside the shop, waiting for Andres to pay for his clothes. If he counted correctly, maybe he already drank fifteen cups of water. Suddenly, he almost spilled his drink again when he felt a cold tap on his shoulder. He flinched, turning around and expecting Andres. To his surprise, it was the scary Garcia.

“Uhm..Do you need help?” He asked, intentionally making himself slightly taller next to Jayliah. ‘She won’t notice it.’

“Yes. Follow me.” The girl monotonously replied, eyeing him “judgingly”.

Camilo raised his brow at her. ‘Is random-dragging a genetic thing for the Garcias or what?’ He thought.

He followed her with no words shared, more focused on hydrating himself that he completely forgot Andres.

In a matter of minutes, he found himself inside the Garcia household again. Suddenly, the atmosphere is colder than his drink. 

“Wait here.” Jayliah said as she went to what appeared like her room, shutting the door. Camilo waited, looking at the walls, the ceilings…

Then, out of nowhere, he questioned himself: ‘Since when did this girl act nice and not awkward around me?’

…

Meanwhile, the scary Garcia neatly packaged her painting for Mirabel. She really didn’t know anyone in the Madrigals except for Mirabel and Camilo. So, she figured asking Camilo for help is a way to keep the painting a surprise for her dear friend. She scrunched her brows and froze. 

‘Since when did I act casual with this loud joker?’

…

Continuing, Camilo still looked around, until his eyes set on an achievement wall. It was full of medals and certificates, majority with the name of “Liliyah” when it comes to academics and “Andres” in sports. Then, he finds the odd one. By the end of the wall, there displayed one certificate with the name of “Jayliah” who won in—

Jayliah’s door opened.

“Can you give this to Mirabel?” She asked, no tone of voice, but politely.

“What’s this?” Camilo grabbed the package.

“Secret.”

He chuckled at that. “Ok. So I’ll just give this to my prima? Noted, noted.”

He prepared himself to do his task strangely assigned by the cold girl, peeking at the certificate on the wall. Turns out, Jayliah won an art competition years ago. He unlocked another discovery. Suddenly, the artist called.

“Wait.” He stopped and turned around again, only to be startled when Jayliah was already near him. He swore to god...she’s like a ghost. A ghost who looked up and down at him again like there was something wrong .

“Back. Change back.”

“Erm—¿Que?” ‘She noticed??’

“You’re not that tall.”

Camilo went silent and went back to his original height. Well, he did grow a little for the past months...by three centimeters. And then Jayliah’s there, probably three or four centimeters taller than him. He felt small and insecure . He’s not that small, she’s just tall!  

“..How did you know..?” He snickers, falsely.

“Because I know.”

“Wow.”

“Yes. Now, go away already.” She said, shooing him away. That made him snicker, for real this time.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

With that, he runs downstairs, with the girl watching him go. Jayliah said something again before he fully disappeared.

“Don’t shapeshift around me.” That made Camilo look above him, but Jayliah already sprinted back to her room. He shook his head and exited, insecurity gone .

‘She’s not bad-mannered. She cares...’ He smiled.

…

In a dark-colored room, Jayliah stared out the window and watched the boy leave. She figured another mystery. She figured something about the happy shapeshifter.

~☻☹~

That certificate was no joke.

“WHAT THE HELL?”

A shaken girl adjusted her green glasses and stared at the mini portrait of hers. Beside her stood an also shaken boy.

“HOW DID SHE—I DON’T REMEMBER POSING FOR A PORTRAIT??”

Mirabel exclaimed, mouth wide open.

“That’s..THAT’S ALL BY MEMORY!?” Camilo shouted, making his prima wince.

“Shh!! You’re too loud!” She squealed and giggled, jumping around while holding the painting close to her chest. She looked at it again.

“I’m so gonna treasure this! Thank you Jayliah Garcia!” Mirabel sighed happily and skipped to her room like a child.

“Wow..” The shapeshifter murmured as he remembered how detailed the painting was. This made him want to own one too. In fact, he is determined to own one. But how? 

“Mirabel!”

He followed behind, giddy to ask her a question.

“How to be Jayliah’s friend?”

~☻☹~

Step one: “Act natural. Just go with the flow.”

Step two: “Don’t ask how to be natural. It’s unnatural that way.”

For some reason, Camilo recited his prima’s words in his head. He strolled across the town with confidence, on his way to go to a tree-filled land where the “war-house” stood.

He knocked on the door, not for his possibly gay, prankster friend, but rather the mystery box he is yet to unlock.

“Yes?” A woman around Mirabel’s height asked. It was Carmel, who he learned was Niko’s mother and the eldest sister of Liliyah and Jayliah.

“Is Jayliah there?” He asked. Carmel looked surprised, but she answered.

“No, pasensya. I saw her go out earlier. Check Mang Fernan’s art store. She goes there daily.”

The shapeshifter nods. “Thank you, Señora! Tell Niko I said hi.” The woman smiled as she watched him go for a search. Then, it turned into a frown. 

“ Be careful around my sister, Madrigal. ” Carmel said before she shut the wooden door. The said Madrigal was hit by confusion once more.

~☻☹~

Fernan the artist checked prizes of his now-daily customer.

“What’s your name, hija?” He asked.

“Jayliah po.” The regular customer spoke robotically.

“Well, I have a question for you, Jayliah. What is art in your opinion? Don’t shy away, I will accept any answer!” 

…

“Art is everywhere—the clouds, the trees, the way humans are humans. It could be physically and mentally. Mentally because a mind, imagination, and emotion can be an art on paper.”

He smiled at this strange teenager’s reply. She doesn’t speak like one, he mulled.

“Why paper, hija?”

“So it could be a drawing or a poem—and that a poem can be music or a dramatic dialogue and a drawing of a scenery can be photography.”

The man hummed.

“You have a wise mind for a young girl. Hm…what’s your inspiration or muse these days? You seem to be painting everyday.”

“I’m not certain, Manong. It might be friends. What about you?” 

For the first time, she asked a question back. Jayliah herself was surprised by that. It’s nice to have an artist-to-artist talk .

“Say, let’s have a painting session someday. Maybe that way, I can slowly reveal to you my muse.” Fernan replied, with genuine kindness. 

The teen paid for the items and looked at the man. He’s not so malicious in her eyes anymore. There’s something that made her trust this fellow artist.

“Okay, Manong.” 

With that, she left the art store, right on time . A few distances away, Camilo was there. His eyes lit up and followed Jayliah who was so damn fast at walking. Just by seeing her holding new art supplies, he wondered if he could have a portrait.

At this point, Camilo was panting. That strange girl distanced herself from the busy town, seeing her settle down on a windy hill. 

…

She sighed, closing her eyes as she sat down on the same, grassy hill she accidentally found when she had an attack.

‘Bad things lead to good things after all… ’ She thought. Few seconds later, she opened her eyes, immediately alarmed by the sight in front of her.

Camilo, in the form of the scary Garcia, staring right into her soul with an idiotic smile. Because of that, Jayliah was certain she would never smile.

“I said no shapeshifting.” 

The shapeshifter laughed and went to his original form.

“You’re secretly a mom.” 

Jayliah looked away from him, and went through her bag to keep herself busy.

“Why are you here?”

“Can’t I talk to my amiga?”

The girl glanced at the excited boy who he claims as her friend. “We’re friends?”

Camilo gasped and put his hand on his chest, dramatically. “Ouch! After all those weeks of-“

“How did you know I was here? You followed me and you don’t follow someone, unless you want to say something.” 

The shapeshifter sat properly in front of her, a respectful distance between them. He sighed,

‘Be natural, don’t lie, don’t lie..’ He rambled on his head.

“Can— May I have a portrait like Mirabel’s? Please?” He beggingly smiled.

“You saw? I’m sorry to break you but-“

Jayliah stands up, carrying her basket filled with art materials in her arms.

“I suck at drawing boys.” She admits and begins strolling down the hill, walking away as usual. As expected, Camilo followed behind her, still begging.

“C’mon Jayliah..Give it a shot! I can pose for hours and hours until you figure it out!” 

“That’s traumatizing.” 

“Pfft—! You’re hilarious.” Camilo laughed.

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. I bet you would be more hilarious if you let yourself be dependent for once, let me hold some of your stuff!” He offered.

“No—“ Too late, the shapeshifter grabbed the basket from her arms. 

“Okay, lead the way to your spooky mansion, Garcia.”

Jayliah sighed. With that, the two walked side-to-side with no words shared. Camilo looked at her. He wondered what was going on under her stoic expression.

“Hey uh…I’m curious.”

Jayliah kept quiet, letting him continue.

“I was wondering why you have the same face everyday.”

“I don’t know.” Lie.

Camilo hummed, “What are you hiding under your frown, Jayliah?”

“...” She stared at him.

“What are you hiding under your smile, Camilo? Don’t you get tired of constantly having to put up a smile for others? Or being the same, famous prankster of the town?”

The shapeshifter’s heart dropped at that—like he was caught. He’s been hiding it for so long and a girl who he recently just talked to, suspected him already? No one knows, except for himself and maybe this strange mind reader too.

“Uhm..”

“Sorry. No need to answer.” Jayliah could sense he was speechless and nervous. That only confirmed her theories.

…

It was nearly night when they arrived at the spooky mansion. Camilo carefully handed the basket to her.

“Welp-I gotta go now. Though, I’m still counting on the painting!” He joked.

“Adios!” He prepared to have a journey back to his home but Jayliah spoke.

“ Be careful with your actions, shapeshifter. I don’t want you to get lost. ”

~☻☹~

September 7, 1952

I got to know him. He really is strange and it confirmed my suspicions. Two or three days ago, I asked him for help and the moment he turned around, he’s suddenly taller than me. I know he isn’t that tall. I wonder why he decided to shapeshift. Was he insecure? Did he want to impress me? Because if he did, I’m not impressed. I’m worried. Ever since I saw him and how he acts as a Madrigal, I always wonder how the heck did he manage to do the same thing everyday; smiling, pranking, and shapeshifting. He shapeshifts too much and he smiles too much that it’s almost fake. He’s hiding something, I know it. Because of that, I’m going to scold him whenever he shapeshifts around me. Maybe that can lessen his chance to get lost. I’m worried.

I’m worried he might end up like me .

Chapter Text

Soft pats of a brush were pressed against the canvas, creating a blend of mossy green and gray. Her painting was vague, but it appears like a slippery cliff with a storm. Next to Jayliah, the local artist—Fernan, also painted in his store. He was humming as he created a colorful image of a happy family of three; a father, a mother, and daughter. It was the contrast of Garcia's work.

He bats an eye at his side, seeing what his peculiar customer had made. 

“That's a renaissance right there! Quite a contrast to mine. What’s the meaning behind, child?”

Jayliah side-eyed the middle-aged man, “offended” by the nickname.

“It was my dream, old man.”

She replies bluntly, making the “old man” laugh.

“Where’s the respect, child??”

“Sorry po .” She pronounced ‘po’ clearly.

Fernan only laughed again. “I’m still waiting for your elaboration.” He smiles.

“It’s based on my dream that appears thrice a month. It was pouring hard and the thunder was earsplitting. My feet were on a rock at the edge of a cliff. Then, I slipped. The end.”

Jayliah recited straightly, her hand still busy on her canvas. The local artist tilts his head, “Did you fall from the cliff?”

“That’s the tricky part, Manong. It’s either I fell backwards, saved by the soft grass or I fell forward off the cliff to my deathbed.”

Fernan was speechless. What sixteen year old dreams of that? Her use of words are very...concerning too.

He cleared his throat. “ There is certainly a meaning behind that, hija. Be careful. ”

She nods before she decides to ask him back. “Is that a portrait of you with your family?”

Fernan smiled, nostalgia hitting him. “Sí. It was the happiest day of my life...A simple grocery day yet a core memory of mine.”

“Why?”

“I finally had enough money for my wife’s heart disease treatment.” He smiled.

Jayliah was interested, dipping her paintbrush to a glass cup and tilting her head at him. “How is she now?”

Fernan’s bright expression faltered, replaced by a sad one. Guilty, the teenager apologized quickly.

“Manong, I didn’t mean to-“

“A fire happened the day she was supposed to be treated.”

The “cold” Garcia now had soft eyes. She connected the dots. She never saw this man walking around the plaza with someone. He was always alone, even in his own shop. Jayliah hasn't seen a girl nor a woman here. Now, looking back at his painting, she realized Fernan painted the last happy memory of his before everything went down. 

“I’m sorry…”

“Está bien…”

The two then painted together in silence. Jayliah wants to say something but she can’t get it out of her mouth. Maybe next time…

~☻☹~

Three ladies strolled around the town—one with a bow, one with flowers, one with a buff physique, and one with wavy hair. 

“Do we need more nail polish and spare pillows?” The buff woman, Luisa asked the group. They nod in unison.

“Yup! And the sleepover’s going to be wonderful!” Isabela cheered.

“Liliyah, you should invite your little sister. Isabela already invited Mirabel and having your sister will complete the girls’ night.” Dolores nudged the wavy-hair girl. 

“Ah, sure. Let me find her.”

As if on cue, Liliyah’s sister got out of the shop they were about to walk past. She looked at her right, confused by the group of ladies staring at her with excitement.

“Milagrosa! Come join our sleepover!” Liliyah ran to her younger sister and grabbed her arm gently.

“What?”

“Sleepover!” She repeats. Soon enough, compliments from Encanto's golden girl erupt.

“Your sister’s pretty up-close, Lili’ !” Isabela then sprinkled flowers over Jayliah’s hair. 

“ What? ” The scary Garcia being called pretty by a majestic woman in front of her? She blinked a lot, flattered by her compliment, even turning pink. How could she call her pretty ? Her hands were full of paint, even her cheek had a smudge of yellow paint. 

“You don’t know how many suitors she had, girls!” The group giggled as they dragged Jayliah with them.

…

That’s how she found herself resting on a fluffy pool of flowers. She was there, eyes closed and posed like a corpse in a casket. It was the contrary of the four girls on her left, who were talking about a failed proposal last year.

“No way, you knocked his nose off?” Liliyah chuckled as she listened to Isabela’s story.

“It was from my reaction! However, I’d probably still do that since he is Mariano Guzmán.” She stated, biting back her laughter, which had failed since Guzmán’s novia had playfully nudged her shoulder.

“Isa, he’s not that bad…”

“Obviously, because he is your macho man.” Mirabel comments, making them cackle. 

“Besides, who needs a macho man when we got this beautiful macho woman over here!” They all cheered with a “woooo”, except the “corpse Garcia” and the macho woman. Luisa shyly covered her face.

On the side, Jayliah was quietly listening. That's how she always seems to be, unconcerned but enjoying the gossip she consumes . She took note that Isabela used to be a pressured, perfect girl and now freely expresses herself. ‘How did she do that?’ She thought. Maybe, just maybe ...they could relate in a way.

“Anyhoo~ Let’s paint our nails!” Isabela suggests, making them sit up, along with the two quiets—Luisa and Jayliah. Again, maybe they might relate.

Liliyah approached her younger sister and smiled.

“Let me guess, it’s blue?” She nods and spreads her fingers apart, giving her hand to Liliyah. They don’t even need to speak to communicate.

With that, Jayliah finally appeared as a younger sister after towering over Liliyah many times.

The scary Garcia embraced the calming essence of the scene. She likes girls —No, not in a crush-way, but she feels empowered with them, causing her to like spending time with women. It was truly a beautiful painting, not until someone knocked and opened the door.

“Scoot over guys!” 

Isabela and Mirabel groaned. “What the hell are you doing here, Camilo!?” The flower girl sassed. Meanwhile, the shapeshifter evilly grinned, with a pillow on his right arm. Then, Liliyah groaned too when she saw who peeked behind Camilo.

“Hi, girls!”

“ANDRES? I DIDN’T INVITE YOU HERE!” She exclaimed, accidentally smudging the blue nail polish in her sister’s finger. “PUT@-:£! Now look at what you did! I ruined Jayliah’s nails!”

“Pssh—whatever, perfectionist.” Andres replied as he and his amazing friend closed the door and approached the group. Liliyah glared at her pinsan.

“This is a girl’s night out. You two are not girls! Dios Mio, you both are not even human!” Isabela exaggerated, making Mirabel agree.

“I’m a girl.” Camilo claimed and shapeshifted to the girl that first came to his mind. Someone almost as tall as his mami, black hair, pale skin, and one with a frown. Jayliah .

The annoyed girls complained again, but this gained a stare from the scary Garcia. This time, she was indeed scary, staring at Camilo—Well, herself, like a ghost watching him sleep soundly. The shapeshifter understood Jayliah's intent. “ Don’t shapeshift around me .” He remembered.

He shifted back to himself before taking a seat on the girl’s circle with Andres.

The bow-head saw that happen.

“I’m not a girl, girls. But I am the hot and amazing, boy-magnet bestie you all are looking for!” Andres boasts, making the group roll their eyes.

“Excuse me but—you scare boys away, Andres.” Mirabel smirks.

“I—HOW DARE YOU-“

 As expected, the sleepover went chaotic, thanks to the two jokers. It was evident, especially on how Camilo and Andres’ nails appeared. They painted each other’s nails and it looked horrible that Mirabel and Liliyah had to re-paint them.

While Liliyah the perfectionist painted Camilo’s nails, he cast a glance at Jayliah who was sitting next to Isabela and Luisa, casually crafting flower crowns. Out of nowhere, the shapeshifter’s mouth formed a smile.

Dolores witnessed his brother for the second time.

…

Darkness washed Isabela’s room. They slept on their respective sleeping bags, soft snores here and there. The flower girl even made a bush barrier, separating the girls from boys. However, hazel eyes were wide awake, even happy. He purposely waited for all of them to fall asleep because he is proposing a little plan.

He got out of his sleeping bag, dusting his nightwear. He carefully tiptoed against the flowery floor, “Oof—!” but tripped when he walked on Andres’ foot. He complained in mind; ‘Curse his long legs!’. Thankfully, the floor had flowers and Andres is a heavy-sleeper. He breathes a sigh of relief, continuing his plan.

Before he smiled at her earlier, he saw her art basket close to her. He's going to do it.

His golden-brown hand had a small piece of paper. He went to Jayliah’s area, seeing her sleep with a blanket over her face. He giggled silently and swooped the paper on her art basket. Seconds later, he went back to his sleeping bag. 

‘Finally, I can sleep.’ Or so he thought.

Five or seven minutes later, he heard light movements and quiet breathing from the other side of the bush barrier. Then, the door opens, revealing a silhouette of a tall and thin girl, with a basket on her right arm. Camilo raised his brow, deciding to follow her. The door shut, but was opened again as Camilo peeked out of it. She tried to find her, and succeeded when the floors moved down to the first floor.

“Gracias, Casita.”

~☻☹~

Jayliah was already heading outside Casita, cold air kissing her pale skin. She liked the cold—especially the night air. She let her feet lead the way until she entered a forest. 

Owl hoots can be heard, creating an eerie atmosphere throughout the woods. But she gave no care and thought, ‘Waking up is way scarier.’

As usual, she accidentally found a peaceful area again. It was an open space where you could clearly see the moon and stars in the sky. Around the open space were the trees, providing the night breeze she loved. Everything here, Jayliah loved it ; the stars, the moon, the breeze, the fact that she found another thing to paint, Cami—

Nevermind. There was one thing she didn’t love.

Jayliah turns around, somehow sensing something solid is behind her. Camilo stood, frozen in a “surprise attack stance”. He snapped and smiled sheepishly.

“Hola, Jayliah! I was definitely not following you!” His grin reached his ears. She went back to her thing, setting up her canvas and all that.

“You again.”

“Yep, it’s me again, amiga! Did ya’ miss me?” 

“No.”

“...”

“Anyway! How did you know I was following you?”

“I have eyes.”

He snorts at her reply. “Pfft-At the back of your head?”

“Yes.” She responds with her same tone and same face, but clearly sarcastic.

Camilo wheezed, not actually finding her response amusing but the fact that a robotic and scary girl like her cracked a joke. “You’re joking now??”

She remained setting her stuff. He stared at the materials, excited again.

“What are you going to paint?” ‘Please be me, please be me..’

“The moon.” He frowns at her.

“ Decepcionante , I thought it’s going to be me.”

Jayliah sighed again, tired of the shapeshifter’s shenanigans.

“I told you already. I can’t draw males.” 

“But you can draw females? They’re basically both humans. Why not do the same with males?”

“I don’t know.” Lie .

Camilo sighed. “Fine. I guess I have to cry everyday now.”

“Good.” She retorts, gaining an offensive stare from the shapeshifter. He stood next to her, this time, not minding the fact that he’s smaller than her.

“Have you seen the note?” He asked.

“Note?”

“The note. I slipped it on your basket earlier.”

Jayliah then tucked her paintbrush on her ear and searched for the note. She found it and opened it. It read: ‘Draw me or else…’ with a poorly drawn doodle of a mad chameleon with a knife.

“Is this a threat?” She stared at it before returning the paper on her basket, remarkably kept neat.

“No, but I tried to match-up your personality so I could convince you.”

Jayliah glared at him the same way she did earlier; A ghost staring during his sleep. She didn’t care that he’s literally calling her personality a frightening menace.

“What? I’m not shapeshifting right now…”

“Physically, no. Mentally, yes. Don’t do that, Camilo. You don’t have to change personalities for me. ” 

His eyes softened, his first time experiencing being seen. “ Why are you so kind to me? ”

“ I know what it’s like to be in your shoes, Madrigal .”

Camilo hummed as his eyes twinkled in comfort.

“Well, in that case..”

He tiptoed to make himself taller, not shapeshifting. Without hesitation, he blocked Jayliah’s painting reference—the moon.

“I’m Camilo Madrigal. This is my annoying ass. Draw me instead of the overrated moon!” He snickered.

“Move your annoying ass out of my way, then.” The painter replies. 

“No.” He puts his fists on his hip, standing confidently. Jayliah used her brain and moved to the side, adjusting for herself.

The shapeshifter grumbled but had a smile on his face. “At least paint me on top of the moon or—or…Draw my face right on the moon, like a glowing sphere with my handsome face on it.”

“This is why you’re awful at ideas, Camilo.”

“Hey! It’s a term called ‘creativity’.”

Suddenly, a splash of little paint lands on his cheek. “Happy? I painted you.” Camilo gave a loud guffaw. 

Only two eyes—one of true joy and the other of hidden joy—remained awake amid the moonlit night where the others slept. A thalia mask tearing off his face, not a trace of fakery, and a frowning melpomene mask still desperate to break.

…

It was three in the morning when they trekked their way back to Casita, the sleepy shapeshifter carrying her basket again. Jayliah glanced at his sleepy state. 

She thought: ‘ I guess I’m his amiga after all.’

They reached the carved door, Camilo lazily hiking upstairs, but stopped when he noticed Jayliah was not following.

“You’re still staying up?” 

Zoned out, Jayliah remembered something when she saw two butterflies flap their wings near her. Mang Fernan . She listed it in her to-do for tomorrow. She snapped out, slowly following the patient boy.

“No.”

With that, they returned to Isabella's room quietly. Camilo placed the art basket near Garcia's sleeping bag. Grinning once more, he raised his gaze to her. In the short time they had together, Camilo grinned a lot and showed no signs of stress.

“Nighty, artist.” 

“Night.”

Chapter Text

Somewhere on a yellow-covered notebook.

September 9, 1952

Hi, it’s been a while since I last wrote in this guapo’s journal. Yesterday, I had a blast during the sleepover. The Garcias... Ay ! I don’t know where to start. They’re so fun to be around—minus the adults hehe >:)! Liliyah, although she’s one of the adults like my prima Isabela and Luisa, and Hermana Dolores, she’s a cool kid at heart. She still goofs around the younger ones—me, Andres, and Jayliah. Dios Mio , my nails are like mini-paintings because of Liliyah. I think I won’t cut my nails now. 

Next, here goes Andres. I’m so tired of him and his rambles about the guys he calls hot around Encanto. It’s surprising he doesn’t find a charming shapeshifter like me attractive. Thank god, he doesn’t though. He might have given me sueños malos every night. Andres is a good guy overall, a prankster like me! 

And then, Jayliah...Andres’ gossip about her being bad is so false. Si, she looks like a scary ghost ready to murder you, but she cares. She wants me to stop shapeshifting too much. She knew about my secret without me telling her. Is she a mind reader? If so, It’ll be embarrassing if she reads my mind. I find her pretty sometimes . But it’s not a crush, Camilo! No, no..that’s so wrong. My mami’s pretty too, Mirabel as well and Dolores and so on. Anyway, I don’t want to tell her that because she might stab me with her paintbrush. I don’t want to admit that I find her hidden kindness so comforting. However, it’s odd that I rarely see her talk about herself. 

…

Happily, he shuts his journal before going downstairs, seeing the Garcias leave in the morning.

“Picnic next time?” Liliyah said as she embraced Isabela.

“Hell yeah! I’ll bring pinoy dishes! Y'all should try adobo, it’s very delicious-“ Andres jumped excitedly.

“Okay, okay, we get it, boy-magnet. We’ll taste some next hangout.” Mirabel laughs.

Soon later, the shapeshifter stood between Dolores and Luisa, because someone specific is near them; a quiet girl watching the scene.

“Jayliah!! You gotta paint me during the picnic!” He offered his hand for a friendly shake. Defaultly, Jayliah stared at him as cold as ice, but he’s not scared at all. Instead of a handshake, he received a half-folded paper in his palm.

He opens it, dying of laughter when he sees what it was. A painting of a moon with a chameleon astronaut.

“I thought you called my creativity lame, huh?”

“You’re annoying for asking me for a portrait constantly. I had to fulfill your lame idea but definitely not the idea of your face imprinted on the moon. Here, I already painted you. You’re the chameleon because I still don’t draw boys.” She said.

“When did you make this?” He smiles at her.

“Last night, after you fell asleep.”

“That’s around three in the morning. Did you even sleep?”

“...”

“I’m okay.” Jayliah responds and is ready to walk away with the rest of the Garcias.

“Wait—!”

“I’m okay, chameleon.” She reassures and strolled beside her older sister.

“You better sleep or else I’ll haunt you in real life!”

Camilo laughs again, second time of the day and early in the morning.

Dolores witnessed him for the third time. She hummed in amusement, sprinting towards her other hermano.

~☻☹~

Nine in the day, Jayliah held a basket full of her Lola’s kalamay, a sweet delicacy. The familiar bell chimes as she enters a shop she goes to daily.

“Hola, Jayliah! Do you need new art supplies or another painting session?” Fernan greets

“None of the given.” She plops the basket of sweet delicacy on the counter.

“Dessert.” 

“Hm? What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing, Manong.” She says with her mouth.

But in her mind, she says: ‘Jayliah naman, you prepared for this! What do you mean nothing? ’

Fernan had that known smile. “Hija, I know you want to say something. Go ahead.” He accepted the basket and offered a seat.

The teen sat next to the man, hands clasped.

“I want to tell you something about a butterfly; a myth from my native country.”

The local artist then adjusted his seat, already knowing that this strange teen will throw out non-teen words.

She continues, “They say that if you sight a butterfly, it’s your ancestor saying hi to you.”

Fernan sighs, now understanding what Jayliah is trying to say, letting her speak.

“I don’t believe it.” 

His mind was confused, about to ask a question but answered shortly by the blunt girl.

“It’s because it is a myth. An unproven saying from different people until it becomes a myth... But I’ll ask you, Manong. Myth comes from the mind or the imagination of an individual, right?”

“Certainly.”

“Certainly. My reason why I don’t believe in that is because I have my own belief. Myth comes from the mind. The ‘butterfly is your ancestor’ myth is just a reminder that you have to remember your deceased, loved ones. Of course, if one believes in the butterfly myth, they’ll surely remember their ancestor..The reality is...they convinced themselves to think that it’s the dead soul talking to them through butterflies. It’s a coping mechanism after your loved one died, you’re desperate to see them again so you want to see them everywhere that butterflies make you delusional.”

…

“And in my belief, your mind is the root of everything. Your mind is powerful—it can make you imagine things such as the butterflies being your ancestors but most importantly, it can store memories. ”

“That’s why, Manong...If you ever see two butterflies—a beautiful, mommy butterfly and a daughter butterfly,”

At her words, Fernan’s eyes built up emotional tears.

“I want you to remember the good memories you had with them instead of wishing to die to be with them. Thinking about things that will not happen will only make you sad, Manong. Don’t use butterflies to see them, use butterflies to remember them . Don’t ask for something you can’t have but accept what you have. And.. I’m grateful you have your memories intact, based on your painting.”

“Don’t lose that and I hope you remember them without having to look up at butterflies.”

Jayliah cleared her throat, now awkward because the local artist was staring at her like a sad puppy.

“Hija...that-that’s beautiful..” A single tear fell on his wrinkled cheeks.

“Gracias, gracias..” He then cried. 

The girl panicked, not knowing what to do so she pats the man’s back gently.

“Sorry I made you cry…”

“It’s happy tears, hija. I promise!” He laughs.

“Where did you learn to speak like that? Did one of  your loved ones pass too??”

“Uh..Opo. My dog died when I was eight.”

“Oh! What’s the dog’s name?”

And so, they chatted, a comforting atmosphere spreading throughout the art shop.

~☻☹~

Near a potted plant on the balcony of Casita, two Madrigals gossiped about something.

“Mi hermano did that??” A curly-head kid giggled and leaned to his older sister’s whispers.

“Si, toñito...He spent an hour or two with her while the whole town was asleep!”

“That 's adorable, Hermana!” Antonio then gasped and pointed his tiny finger on their gossip of the day. “It 's Camilo!”

He, Camilo, had just come back upstairs with a grin after bidding goodbye to the Garcias. He yawned, but paused when he saw his two siblings giggling while looking at him.

He approached them, crouching down to his little brother’s height. “What are you two talking about—The most guapo shapeshifter, hm?” 

“Tell him, toni.”

The happy kid nodded his head, “Yup! We were talking about your crush!”

“Crush? I don’t have a crush?” Camilo replied, but he thought of his journal.

“You do! It’s Jayliah! Dolores said you spent an hour with her last night, laughing and painting-mmm“

The shapeshifter blinked furiously, quickly covering Antonio’s mouth, not having time for rumors spreading around casita especially when it’s Sunday.

“Dolores! You’re spreading false rumors again!” He glared at the bow-head.

“Are you sure, ‘Milo? Then, why the yellow paint on your cheek?”

Camilo’s eyes widened and stood up quickly, wiping off the paint.

“Ay! Fine! We were talking late at night... pero! Jayliah is not my crush, got it, toñito? Don’t believe Dolores the chismosa !”

“Got it!” The boy did a little excited jump and saluted his brother.

…

The shapeshifter went to the bathroom, washing off the yellow paint on his cheek. 

“Tsk. Typical Dolores…” He scoffed and blew a piece of curl covering his eyes. He stared at his reflection, suddenly surprised by his face.

He thought: ‘I look like this? I have freckles?’

He massaged his cheeks, feeling weird in his body. He can’t describe it but he’s aware he didn’t like this feeling.

Thanks to the call of his name, he felt more frustrated.

“Camilooooo, hurry up! The town’s needing our help. It's a busy Sunday!”

He sighed, “Coming, Mira!”

~☻☹~

At one in the afternoon, the shapeshifter took a rest under a shade of tree, exhausted from the usual Sunday. He watched the town from that area, relaxing himself and running away from responsibilities for a few minutes. However, when he saw someone exit Fernan’s art shop, he didn’t continue his rest and happily skipped his way to her.

“Hey fantasma!” He greets.

“Fantasma?”

“It means fantastic.” He lies .

Jayliah shrugs and goes through her basket. “Take it.” She handed him another dessert.

‘Seems familiar..’ The shapeshifter thought and had a mischievous smirk.

“Is this the put-“

“Don’t. Remind me of that. That’s not it, it’s a kalamay.”

“Okay, fantasma. So, why are you always at Señor’s shop?”

“For art.”

“Hm. I didn't see any paintbrushes today.” He looks at her now-empty basket.

“Fine. I talked to him about something that an annoying shapeshifter should not know.”

He turned to the right, then left, then behind. “Who?” He held his laughter.

“You.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please, I won’t ask for a painting anymore!” He begged.

…

“You’re into pranks, right?”

Chapter Text

A group of feet rhythmically marched together on the cobble. The mother duck being the oldest among them; Liliyah—while the rest followed the leader. When they reached a familiar shop, Liliyah and her younger sister turned around at the two clowns. 

“Do your job.” The mother duck orders. Mirabel helps Liliyah by shoving the two at the entrance of the shop, their own art materials almost falling off their arms.

“Hey! Careful there, amiga!” The tall Garcia snarled at her, making the overly-hyped shapeshifter laugh.

“Okay, so we’ll just greet Señor Fernan like it’s a normal day, sí?” Camilo asked the three—Mirabel, Liliyah, and Jayliah.

“Yes.” The instigator of the prank, Jayliah, confirms.

“Got it!”

…

Ah, yes. Scaring the confused local artist was considered  a default greeting.

“Mang Hernan, right? If you don’t stand up and teach me and this shapeshifter how to paint, I’ll make sure your shop is empty by tomorrow.” Andres said as he leaned in threateningly at the confused man. Meanwhile, Camilo agrees with a “Yeah!”

“It’s Fernan, chico. And, I am sorry pero I do not teach mischievous boys.” 

“Oh, is that so? But you have so many students today, Hernan !” 

“Yeah!” The shapeshifter agrees again, crossing his arms dramatically.

Within a second, his three other ‘students’ came in. Fernan made eye contact with the familiar customer among the newcomers. ‘Hayayay!..this girl.. ’ he thought.

“Fine. Come along now ‘students’—though this is supposed to be my art shop, not an art class.”

Andres squealed in joy and unhesitantly squeezed the art shop owner in a hug. “Salamat po! You deserve a flower!”

He lets go of the man, gesturing to Camilo to give the local artist a flower with a dramatic spin.

“A sign of gratitude, Sire..” The shapeshifter bowed. Señor Fernan accepted the antics of this strange group with a chuckle.

…

Once everyone had sat down, minding their own business, Fernan—who had taken a seat beside his daily customer, nudged her shoulder slightly.

“You planned all this, didn’t you, hija?”

“Yes, Manong.” The girl responded, patting her brush against the canvas.

The local artist stands up, patting Jayliah’s shoulder, muttering, “ Gracias , I don’t feel alone now…’

He cleared his throat. “I shall now check up on my students!” He sarcastically announced.

Next to Jayliah was Liliyah who painted a nice scenery of a flowery field. Followed by Mirabel who painted Casita, then…

“ Dios Mio ! What is that thing, mijo!” Fernan stared at Andres’ work, making the group peek at his work.

“My type in boys, Manong! You see these amazing chinito eyes??” He pointed at his painting that looked nothing like a face.

“You have a bad taste then.” Fernan pats the boy’s back. This made the shapeshifter next to Andres wheeze, only for him to stop when the teacher asked him about his work.

“Oh, this? This is my type of food!” He proudly showed everyone his work.

“I present to you... arepas con queso !” This only made the three girls blink with the teacher.

“Those are arepas, primo?” Mirabel holds back her laughter. 

“Hoy, no need to be mean! I can actually see resemblance-“

“Team up with him all you want, Andres.” Liliyah laughs.

“Atleast I’m a boy-magnet, sigurista !”

“Psh. As if you attracted your old crush.” The mother duck answers, gaining a gasp from Mirabel.

“He had a crush?? What’s his name?”

“Gabriel.”

“Bet he had chinito eyes like Andres said earlier-“

And so, the used-to-be-lonely local artist had felt happy again after being recognized. That someone who recognized him, being the girl who wears a frowning mask—in which for the first time, almost broke in joy.

…

“Goodbye Señor! Gracias for the stars!” Mirabel bid goodbye to the local artist with the rest of his so-called students. Fernan had given the group tiny star stickers as a “good job for being an artist today”. At the corner, Jayliah was too distracted by the afternoon sky—an orange and pink-hued sunset. She felt overwhelmed today, in a good way. Mang Fernan had acknowledged her intentions earlier, created another art piece and then left the shop only to be greeted by the art of nature.

Snapped out of her trance, she was dragged in the arm by her older sister.

“Goodbye Madrigals! Have a great dinner!” Liliyah beamed, followed by Andres, “Camilo, make sure to give me arepas tomorrow!”

Unbeknownst to Jayliah, the shapeshifter silently admired her kindness today .

~☻☹~

In the scary Garcia's room, she stuck her three stars given by the local artist on her wall, alongside her rough sketches she never finished. 

Knock, knock, knock! A soft thud of the door catches her attention.

“It’s unlocked.” She says. A second later, Liliyah peeked her head from the door before entering, closing the door behind her gently .

“Hi, Milagrosa.” She watched as her younger sister worked with the stars.

“Seems like you’re in a good mood today, huh?”

Jayliah nods. Somehow, Liliyah always knows when her sister is happy or upset, despite the same face she displays everyday. 

She smiles at her. “You definitely should after making a soul happy, Jay. Now,”

“As a reward, I think you deserve my stars.”

Liliyah stuck her own three stars received from Fernan to the wall. “There.”

This act made Jayliah stare at her, speechless.

“I see your kindness, Jayliah. Even if the world says you’re unkind. ” 

She pats her back before leaving the room, closing the door so gently for the second time, knowing how they both grew up together .

Silence filled Jayliah’s room, but her mind didn’t. She looked down on her feet and mumbled, “ I hate you, Ate .”

The girl was conflicted with her feelings. She hates her own sister—who supported her a lot. She feels bad that she hates the person who was kind to her, but at the same time, the person who made her cry a lot when she was younger.

…

Five years ago.

The two sisters belonged to a prestigious school somewhere in their home country. The first sister was a fourteen year old, joining clubs and known for being active, gaining some fans. The second sister however, was an eleven year old in the elementary building. She was graduating from elementary school that year.

Young Jayliah sat with the graduating students, watching the ceremony. Suddenly, she felt her classmate tapping the back of her head, making her look behind.

“Hey Garcia! Your Ate was a valedictorian three years ago, right?”

Jayliah nods at her classmate.

“Well, what happened to you? You didn’t even get to be with the top 10! Haha!” 

“Your parents must be disappointed in you.”

Her two classmates at the back laughed at her. Jayliah kept silent and focused on the ceremony, trying not to cry but failed until she was on the line.

Her mother, Amanda, scoffs at her. “What a crybaby. Is it because you have no golden medal, Milagrosa? Then next time, do your best.” She wipes her daughter’s tears away.

Once flashes of cameras met their eyes, Jayliah kept a frown. Behind that frown, she questions herself, ‘Why? ’

Three years ago.

She was thirteen when she stared at her older sister who brought home an award, showered by compliments coming from the Titas, the Titos, the in-laws, the Lola, and the mother.

“Apo ko! You deserve a celebration! What flavor of cake do you want, hm?”

Young Jayliah was there, holding a broom in her hands as she pursed her lips in a thin line. She wondered why her family throws Liliyah a party for such a small thing but when it’s her birthday, they don’t throw a party for her, always saying, “We don’t have money, anak.”

Jayliah was thirteen when she purposely upsetted her mother just so her wrists would be in pain .

She sat on her bed, thinking. Oh, how she hated Liliyah. She’s in the shadows, while the other stays in the spotlight and was kind enough to share a little light for her. She hated herself for hating Liliyah.

Unknown years ago.

“I’m sorry, Ma!” Young Liliyah cried as her mother yelled at her.

“Liliyah Garcia. Arms forward.” Amanda demands.

Shaking, the older sister followed, preparing for the punishment. 

…

Three years ago.

She, Liliyah, was sixteen when she witnessed her younger sister receive the same punishment she experienced. She was crying, but Jayliah was not. Liliyah thinks her younger sister was a lot stronger than her, seeing how this was nothing to her.

She sobbed more when she saw her on the bed, staring at her bruised wrists.

“Milagrosa…” Liliyah mumbles before she wraps her in a gentle embrace.

Oh, how she cares for Jayliah . Jayliah, who finally cried in her sister’s arms, not because of her wrist, but because she hated Liliyah. 

They were Linnaea borealis, a twinflower. The right flower received sunlight, while the left flower had withered petals. However, both flowers are attached in one stem, that stem being the similar childhood they shared, allowing them to support each other as sisters. 

In the end, they were on the same boat. That is why they make sure they shut their doors quietly, knowing how they both grew up together .

~☻☹~

Two teens sat near the river, sewing a piece of cloth. One listened, while the other ranted.

“It’s just not fair, especially when they think younger siblings have it stable. Tsk! They don’t know the constant comparison we experience.”

Mirabel rants. She was supposed to teach her beloved friend how to do embroidery but instead crossed her arms in frustration. Jayliah didn’t care anyway, not focusing on her stitches but listening to the girl.

“Because they think the youngest are the baby of the family, like a child with no worries. Too blind that you are growing as well.” She replies robotically.

“Right???” Mirabel sighs.

“Maybe we’re destined to be friends, Jayliah. You’re also the third and the youngest among your siblings.” The Madrigal jokes, laughing.

“Maybe. At least your hardships are now seen by your family.”

“Mhm... is yours acknowledged ?”

The scary Garcia went silent. Looking back, it was the opposite of being acknowledged. In a second, she replied, “Ask your cousin. He’s been in our house a few times.”

“Oh. I get it. That chameleon told me your house felt like terror.” She chuckles.

“But hey...I’m here to acknowledge you. I can see your kindness regardless of your monotone shell.” 

How strange it felt for Jayliah. For the past few days, people have been kind to her. It was new, she thought.

“Thank you, Mirabel.”

“No problem, Milagros—Wait, I can call you that, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, Milagrosa. One more question, what does it mean? Liliyah never tells me!”

“It means a miracle .”

Mirabel gasped. “We’re really meant to be amigas! Abuela says I’m the embodiment of our miracle candle!”

“I can see the resemblance.” 

The Madrigal smiled widely at her. “Okay, I’m going off-topic! Let’s continue with the stitches…”

…

Curiosity is a trait a cat obtains. So, why is this chameleon’s ears huge?

“I’ll see you whenever, Milagrosa! Keep up with the stitches!” The Madrigal’s miracle greets her amiga a goodbye.

Once the casita’s doors shut, the chameleon, in the form of a cat, muttered, “Milagrosa…?”

He wondered what that meant and why his prima called Jayliah that. A goal was set up in his mind. Screw the portrait! What is Milagrosa ?

~☻☹~

Too thrilled when the following day arrived, Camilo hikes up the familiar grassy hill. A wide grin exposed against the calm wind of the sunset. Then, he saw his target, just sitting there and watching the sky alone.

“Jayliah! Heyyy, long time no see eh??” He said, making the girl snap her head.

“I still can't draw boys.” She answered, not wanting to talk to this shapeshifter.

“Cálmate! I’m not asking for another portrait, amiga. I’m here for a different reason.”

“Hurry and spit it out. I’m going home soon.”

Camilo seats next to her, with a respectful distance. “I heard Mirabel call you ‘Milagrosa’...What does it mean?”

“Miracle. That’s it.”

The boy raised his brow, “Huh? Why, if you don’t mind..?”

Jayliah didn’t know why she felt like it’s okay to tell him, like a sense of trust—which was an issue for her, considering she grew up with trust issues, especially for boys.

“Because I had a low chance of living while my mother was giving birth to me. She told me the nurses exclaimed ‘Milagrosa’. Ever since, close family or friends have called me that sometimes.”

The boy was interested. Initially, he thought this scary Garcia is involved in magic like his prima.

“Maybe the universe wants you to experience the beauty of life!” He exclaimed, dramatically.

“Yeah.” She bitterly replies, but unnoticed by the boy since her face is the same.

Suddenly, Camilo had a mischievous smile. “So, can I call you Milagrosa?”

“No. You’re not my close friend.”

“Ay! That hurt my feelings...Then, why did you unhesitantly tell me the definition of your enchanting nickname, hm?”

For the first time, she got caught red-handed. Jayliah sighed and said, “Still. You’re a boy.”

“What’s with you and your dislike of men, Jayliah??” He laughed.

“I don’t trust them.”

Camilo only smiled mischievously again. 

“Wow. You must’ve distrusted me when you told me the backstory of Milagrosa.” He teased.

Jayliah looks at her right and threatens him, “ Do you want me to shove grass down your annoying throat? ”

The shapeshifter only laughed out loud and held his stomach for support. 

“This is my first time seeing you sooo pissed! It’s adorable —HAHA!”

The girl only watched him, unamused and stood up, leaving him alone dying on the grass. “You ruined the sunset.”

“Wait- Don’t leave me!” He follows after her, still chuckling.

Once they settled down to the town, he grins and asked her again,

“Can I call you Milagrosa?”

“...”

“Fine.”

Camilo jumped in joy and exclaimed so loud that the people around them looked in their direction.

“Happy?”

“More than happy, Milagrosa!” 

If he was a dog, Jayliah could visibly see the excited wags of tail. She ruffles her hair in annoyance. Fortunately, someone rescued her. 

“Jayliah! I’ve been looking for you for hours and you’re just here with my best kumpare??” The tall Garcia went to the two and lazily rested his arms around the excited shapeshifter’s shoulder.

“Not my fault he follows me around like a puppy, Andres. Why do you need me?” Jayliah said.

“Hey—I’m not-“ Camilo stopped talking when his amigo replied to his cousin.

“It’s dinner time, duh! You wouldn’t want to miss mama’s kare-kare!” 

“Thanks. I can finally escape. Bye, chameleon.” She said monotonously and walked away, soon followed by Andres.

“Bye, kumpare!” 

“Bye, Garcias!”

Camilo smiled at the two Garcias, but soon turned into a disgusted scrunch of nose when Andres sent him a cheeky wink.

With that, he went to his own family dinner.

~☻☹~

The two tall teens of the Garcia family stood next to each other, assigned to wash dishes because they arrived late during dinner. Suddenly, the boy nudges his pinsan.

“You didn’t tell me you began being friends with boys, ‘insan. Thought you hated them, huh?” Andres teased.

“...” The other remained focused on washing the plates.

He gasped and continued his teasing, “Jayliah, what if you end up dating him!?”

The girl froze in disgust. “Don’t ever suggest that. It’s weird . You know I don’t develop crushes.” 

“Well, maybe it’s time for change! Plus, Camilo’s not even that bad—He’s a good guy. If only he was gay...Hay…” Andres joked.

“You have a bad taste.” 

“At least I don’t avoid the fun things of being a teenager!”

“At least I don’t easily trust people like you did with Gabriel.”

“Okay, fair point, ‘insan. Gabriel’s a gago ! I don’t even know why I had a crush on him. His chinito beauty went to waste because of his personality!”

The two then washed the dishes, bickering despite their opposite personalities. There was something with these two. Something that happened four years ago which triggered them to have a genuine friendship.

Chapter Text

When he was twelve, he dreamt about a boy who wore woven sombreros. He was twelve when he understood why flowers from a girl never made him flustered.

Everyday, every night, Gabriel clogged his mind.

“Gabriel! Look what I made!” Little Andres jumped happily and showed his beloved friend a santan bracelet.

“Hm? Cool, are these for me??” The sombrero boy asked, making the lovesick kid nod.

“Mhm! Give me your wrist!”

Carefully, Andres slid the flower bracelet into the chinito’s wrist. And then, Gabriel suddenly held his hand, smiling.

“Let’s fly a kite?” He asked the Garcia, whose tiny heart is trying to escape his chest.

“U-Uhm—! Oo! Sige, sige!”

Gabriel giggles as they run, hand-in-hand. He was amazed by the wind blowing the kite, but Andres was staring at him .

…

He had a crush on Gabriel, he was sure of it—So sure that he ranted it on his frowning cousin.

“I feel like I drank gallons of coffee whenever I see him, Jayliah!” 

The two twelve year olds are in their backyard, playing with the sand. 

“Gabriel?” She muttered, a hidden disappointment in her voice.

“The one and only, ‘insan! His eyes are so….ARGH!” The boy squealed.

Suddenly, she reached out for her sampaguita hairpin. “Stop moving.”

He obeyed and remained still, watching his cousin put the hairpin on his own hair. His eyes lit up.

“YOU FINALLY GAVE ME ONE OF YOUR PINS!” He shouted and tightly hugged her.

Breaking away from the moment, they stood up and dusted their clothes off when they heard an angry shout.

“Kids! How many times did I tell you both to stop playing with the sand!? Puno ‘yan ng tae ng manok! ” Ramon, the father of Andres, scolded.

“Sorry po, pa…” 

“What’s that on your hair?? That’s only for girls, nak!” 

Young Jayliah was happy for Andres. Though, she’s not. 

…

Gabriel; that chinito boy despised someone. That someone being his friend’s cousin. He wants to get revenge on the girl who had put his life in misery. 

That one day, Jayliah was excited after hearing the announcement that her name was finally at the list of top ten. It was a simple thing, but a once in a blue moon for her. 

However, also that day, Gabriel cried when his parents shouted at him for being unable to be in the top ten. Two, mere kids, both academically pressured by their own guardians led into something worse.

He lied to Andres about liking him back.

The two boys strolled side-to-side, laughing together. Suddenly, Gabriel spots her. He nudges the cousin of the spotted target.

“Psst, wanna do something fun?”

The boy, being blinded by love, agreed.

…

He removed his sombrero and harshly grabbed Jayliah’s hair.

“Let’s get you a makeover, huh?” He laughs as he pulls out a scissor. 

Her, being a child, begged. “No! Don’t—Please!”

Too late, he trimmed the girl’s hair to a very short length.

Andres stood frozen, watching the scene, his eyes shaking. Once Gabriel finished cutting her hair, he looked up at his “crush”.

“You know what to do, Andres!” He laughs.

Again being foolish, he balled his hand into a fist and answered, “ She’s used to it, anyway. ”

…

When they got home, it’s not only Jayliah who had a bruise on her face. The cause of her bruise, himself, had a punishment.

“Mahal, you’re hurting him too much!” Armani cried and tugged on Ramon’s sleeves.

“He hit his own pinsan all because of his reckless crush! And guess what, that crush was a boy !” 

“It doesn’t matter—“

He didn’t give his wife a chance to continue speaking. Ramon grabbed his son’s collar.

“You’re a disappointment, Andres! Go to your room!” 

Terrified, the boy ran to his room, only to be greeted by the girl who he punched.

“What are you doing here, Milagrosa?? I-I hurted you!” He sobbed, but the girl only kept quiet and approached him. 

“Open your eyes.” She whispered as the boy hesitantly followed. He saw her giving a box, her collection of hair pins. Once again, she understands and blocked her own feelings away. Tears welled up in his young eyes, sobbing even more when he saw the bruise on his cousin’s eye.

“I’m sorry, ‘insan! I really am!” He embraced her, accepting the box, just like how Jayliah accepted him.

Up until now, Andres kept the antique box.

~☻☹~

In the tall Garcias’ room, a certain shapeshifter felt a surprise, shock, or maybe pity? He didn’t know and he surely did not know that this “Gabriel story” was not shallow. He can’t imagine a girl who he knows as apathetic, turning pathetic and vulnerable. 

“She cries?”

The tall Garcia chuckled at that, finished clipping “his” hairpin on the side of his head. 

“Of course, kumpare! You really think she never shows emotions?”

“I mean...Sí?”

Andres laughed again, “Trust me, the more you get close to her, the more you notice things. Although, I still have a hard time understanding her expressions…”

“I did notice a bit of a pocas cosas. ..like the fact that she’s actually friendly and not a deadly ghost.”

“See?”

“Pero, didn’t you bad-mouthed your prima a long time ago? You told me she’s not well-mannered and I discovered….she’s not!”

Awkwardly, Andres scratched the back of his head. “Ay, that’s another story, kaibigan. With a plot of—“

He put his palms together and created an imaginary rainbow, “ Immoral boys again !”

Camilo sighed on the amount of information being dumped on him. 

“Don’t tell me Jayliah went to another hell??”

“Well, you curious chameleon, I repeat—that’s another story to tell.”

The shapeshifter only nods. He thought he already unlocked the mystery of this scary Garcia, in which—he realized, was only the surface of the iceberg.

Then, he looks at Andres, somehow surprised too that this tall teen also had a story. 

“Now I understand why they tease you about Gabriel. Imagine falling for a hideous guy...Maybe I should join them, Andres!”

“Don’t even try, Camilo!”

…

He wrote again in his journal when the clock hit five in the afternoon.

September 12, 1952

I just stumbled upon a difficult puzzle! I remember promising myself to unlock that mystery box. And here I thought that I accomplished it already, showing how this fantasma actually talked back to me and even got a reaction from her! But after hearing about Gabriel, I discovered there’s more. Is her past the reason why she never seems to smile? Dios Mio , I don’t know!  Starting today, I will hire myself as the mischievous detective, investigating the case of an enigma...

He wrote in his journal, grinning ear-to-ear. Suddenly, he shut it once he heard a knock from his door.

“Come in!”

Mirabel came to the view, noticing how her primo is smiling over a notebook.

“It’s Señora Amanda’s birthday today.” She informs.

“Oh? Feliz cumpleaños!”

Mirabel sighed, annoyed. “The Garcias invited us over.”

“Señora is a Garcia?”

“Primo, it’s Liliyah and Jayliah’s mom??” The girl groaned.

“Oh right! It’s her —I mean, their mami? Bueno , give me a minute.” He shooed Mirabel out of his saturated room.

Meanwhile, the Madrigal’s miracle was utterly confused by his behavior. Just what was he planning to do?

~☻☹~

At three o’clock in the afternoon, muffled anger was heard through the enigma’s room. 

“Ay jusko, ‘nak! Can’t even clean up your room! It’s my birthday and you are only irritating me, Jayliah! Is this my regalo, ha!? After I took care of you and this is how you repay me ?”

Jayliah only stared at the floor, trying to block off her mother’s revile. Amanda continues talking, or rather—guilt tripping her “daughter”.

“You don’t know how much I suffered raising such children, especially with you, you disobedient girl!”

Then, the mother saw her sketchpad peacefully lying on Jayliah’s desk.

“Ano ba ‘to!? Art?? Tsk—Can’t even choose a passion that will earn us money!” She picked up the sketchpad and didn’t hesitate to tear it apart.

Pained, Jayliah winced, still not making eye contact with her mother. Amanda then grabbed her wrist. Immediately, the “robotic” teen apologized.

“I’m sorry, Ma-“

She thought Amanda would do something to her wrist . To her fortune, she instead puts a piece of paper on her palm.

“Don’t mess up your speech later. I already made you one, Milagrosa . Memorize that and don’t say a word about this , okay?” She smiles as she gently pats Jayliah’s head before leaving the room.

Thud! 

As soon as the door shuts, she inhales deeply, calming her nerves down. But to no avail, her hands were shaking as she attempted to read the written speech, mumbling “Good evening” repeatedly.

She didn’t see her mother’s furious eyes. But she knew what it looked like and just by thinking about it, Jayliah had a hard time breathing, as if she was a child all over again .

…

It was six o’clock at night when the two teens of the Madrigal arrived a tad bit late. The whole magical family arrived and some other people the Garcias had grown fond of. The people were quiet and the shapeshifter wondered why. Turns out, the three daughters of the celebrant were making a speech.

He listens attentively, in contrast to his hermana. 

The chismosa was worried as the theater play rolled, elegant costumes and hairstyles worn by the four actors in the spotlight.

“—Once again, thank you for supporting me throughout my years, especially for recognizing my achievements, mama. Happy Birthday!” Liliyah cheerfully said. The crowd applauded, along with her older sister, Carmel who stood behind her.

“Now, for final remarks, I give the applause to my mama’s youngest daughter, Jayliah!” The cheerful middle child announced. 

Among the crowd, Camilo watched the scene with a goofy smile. When the robotic girl held the microphone, he observed with one goal in his mind; find out more about her. Yet, he finds it difficult when she has that same face as she speaks.

Jayliah held Amanda’s hand until the end of her recital, “— Maligayang bati , mama. Thank you for being resilient and providing me and my Ates the care we needed. We love you.” The two embraced, making the crowd cheer. 

They all applauded, except for the bow-head. She hummed, anxious.

…

For the first time, Camilo Madrigal’s eyes were starstruck by the Garcia family’s uncommon enthusiasm. There were rhythmical taps of bamboo sticks against the floor, with who he knew as Carmel’s husband, doing crazy footwork with the sticks. Then, the invited musicians were perfectly providing a warm atmosphere. Lastly, there was the fragrance of his love of his life— food . And for some reason, he can’t stop getting himself putos . 

“You enjoying the party, primo?” Mirabel asks as she gets herself a meal.

“Mira—Look around! This is a once in a lifetime phenomenon!”

Suddenly, hands rested on the two Madrigal’s shoulders, startling them with a yelp.

“And THIS! Is the definition of once in a lifetime, mga kaibigan! Mang Fernan painted me!” Andres joyfully exclaimed. 

“It’s for free?” Amazed, the girl held the small canvas.

“Yep! My sister invited our art teacher.” The mother duck, Liliyah piped in. Once more, the two were startled.

‘The Garcias really had a habit of appearing out of nowhere ’, the shapeshifter thought.

“Where is your sister?” The girl with the glasses asked.

The tall Garcia then pointed at a certain area using his pursed lips. “Over there, busy with her mais con yelo.”

Not so far away, the robotic teen continued shoving the flavored crushed ice to her glass. After she’s satisfied, she takes a spoonful of her favorite dessert. She turns around to rot in her bedroom, but is terrified once she sees the group of teens and one young adult approaching her. As a result, she hustled quickly.

“Where do you think you’re going, ‘insan!” 

Andres puts his hand on her shoulder, facing her figure to the group.

“Come on, Milagrosa! Join us! We’ll do the talking” Her sister suggests.

She had no choice. She nodded her head and silently walked beside them, more attentive to her mais con yelo. 

Meanwhile, the shapeshifter’s eyes multiplied more stars. He was so excited to ask her his long list of questions.

“Jayli-“ He called, but the Madrigal matriarch interrupted.

“Ay! Look at our grandchildren getting along, Leonora…” She comments, squeezing her amiga’s arm.

“Such a wonder to see! As our bayani Jose Rizal quotes, ‘The youth are the hope of the nation!’. Alma, they truly are our future!”

“Hay...Why don’t you all compress and take a picture?” Leonora calls for a boy who was the tailor’s son.

“Mateo, hijo! Kindly take a picture of them.” She instructs. The cameraman, “Mateo”, stared at one particular individual who held a glass of cold dessert. He was fascinated more now that this strange ‘muse’ of his was closer to his sight instead of distances away. Distracted, he shook his head.

“Está bien, musas. One, two, three…”

The group of Garcias and Madrigals posed for the photo. 

Within the people, it’s not only him; the camera boy, who was distracted. The tall Garcia was too .

After the shot was taken, the shapeshifter turned to his unsolved case beside him. “Jayliah! I have sooo many questions prepared for you! First-“

Cut off again by a voice, Mirabel tugged on his ruana. “ ‘Milo, let’s go to Señor Fernan!”

“Ay! Wait a second, I’ll lost her—“

 “Anddd! I did.” 

He clicked his tongue, watching as Jayliah escaped from him and the others, successfully isolating herself in her room with her dessert.

The detective groaned. ‘It’s okay. There is still tomorrow! ’ He encouraged himself.

~☻☹~

It was a little past midnight when the party ended.

Just after the owl hoots, Jayliah sneaks out in a nightgown while her hair lacks style. She made sure no one else was awake but her Titos hanging out with other men, their bloated tummies exposed for ventilation. Quickly, she sprinted out of her household, aiming to get to the woods.

The familiar atmosphere came into being. The open area, the peaceful moon, the cold night breeze...The only difference this time was that she didn’t go here to paint and relax from her thoughts. She committed an innocent arson , providing warmth as she threw the pieces of her torn sketchbook in the flame.

Zoned out against the rustling sounds of burning paper, she pulls out her leathered journal from her satchel. A weary sigh escaped her lips. And then, she wrote.

September 13, 1952

Hearing paper turning to ashes stings. Ashes, though, are pretty. The paper withered and became a glimmering powder. They resemble artists. The beauty of their work only becomes notable after they pass, inspiring a new generation of artists who will only end up underappreciated, underpaid, and desperate like them. I wonder if any of the artists—Van Gogh, Da Vinci, perhaps, Manong Fernan, also had strict parents? I wonder... if one day, I'll turn to ashes as well?

…

With the calm glow of the crescent moon, it’s not only the dying artist who’s wide-awake. A frightened shapeshifter awoke from his slumber. Though, it was not a good slumber. He had a nightmare about none other than himself—who he now questions: Do I know you?

Bothered by his thoughts, he slid on his threatening chancla , yearning to breathe fresh air. Thanks to his unsolved puzzle, he knows a place.

He stepped in the open area where the moon was displayed, but he didn’t look at the stunning sky. His attention was on his case of an enigma.

“What are you doing here?” She asked. The detective stifles a chuckle, now aware that this girl has eyes on behind.

“I wanted fresh air and the smell of slight smoke is not helping. What are you doing, Milagrosa?”

He took a seat on the soft grass beside her.

“Burning my sketchbook.”

Camilo blinks at her blunt answer, “Burn?? Why would you burn that? Your art’s drop-dead gorgeous, fantasma!”

“No point anyway. It’s torn apart in the first place.”

“Wha- Did Andres chew that off or something?” He laughs at the image of his amigo eating wood.

“No. He’s not that crazy. Welcome to the downside of being an artist. It’s difficult to achieve something when you’re one of those unappreciated people. You see Mang Fernan? People rarely go to his shop.”

The shapeshifter’s eyes had a glint of understanding, as if he knew what Jayliah means.

“Is that why you go there daily?”

“Mhm. Artists help artists recognize their talent.”

There was a serious atmosphere going on, so the boy proposed an idea. He’s bad at comforting, he admits. However, he masters at mimicking.

“I am going to mimic your antics, Jayliah. If I can’t shapeshift around you…I will bug you for a portrait forever if I see you throwing your talent away again. That way, art will be saved by the one and only cold and stoic artist right next to me! Deal?”

That made Jayliah turn at him with surprised eyes. “Here you go again, chameleon. Why are you being kind to me?”

“Because you are to me, duh! Plus, you said artists help artists. I have a knack for acting, y’know?”

The girl hummed and stared at the warm fire. “Well then, why did you go here past midnight? You look like you just woke up.” She asks, with her signature tone of voice.

“Ah, I had a nightmare. Spooky, must I say.”

He wiggles his fingers while making ghost sounds. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“...” The chameleon thought: ‘Dios, I was supposed to be the one reading her! And now, she’s the one trying to read me again.. ’

With a sigh, he said, “Yes.”

He thought he’s already an open book to this enigma anyway. Camilo sighs again and begins with his story-telling skills.

“It started with me going to Casita after doing my usual chores. I went to my room...Then, when I approached the mirror near my bed, I saw my... face . Fantasma , it wasn’t even a face! My eyes were gone , my nose too—Everything!”

His arms dramatically raised to the air, he continued,

“I thought I wasn’t dreaming but thank God it was just a pesadilla !” 

The scary Garcia listens with full attention, as if solving the depth of his dream in a matter of seconds.

“Are you thinking of something lately?”

The theater kid hesitated. But then again, there was no point of hiding. The mischievous Camilo Madrigal then turned serious, a slight frown in his face.

“I just feel like...I’m not doing anything to build a progress for a...Five-star-review from everybody’s eyes?”

Silence enveloped the two. For a second, the shapeshifter was dead-serious. Not until...

“Can you walk around while you look up to the night clouds?”

The boy got hit by confusion by the enigma’s request, trying not to laugh.

“Huh?!? Jayliah, that sounds like an idiot would do!”

“You’re dumb everyday. It’s the same.”

Camilo grumbles at her reply. This made the scary Garcia sigh, “Fine. Take a proper seat and just look up to the sky.”

The boy crossed his arms at her but followed soon later. “What now, fantasma ?”

“See how the clouds move?”

“Yeah?”

Then, her hand gently pressed his back, making him move in a slow manner. 

“But they stop moving once you make a movement.”

The confused shapeshifter looks at her with anticipation, letting her continue her strange shenanigans. She puts back her hand on her lap.

“That’s how your brain works. When you move too much or when you drain yourself just to get five stars, the clouds will stop moving, like the ‘progress’ you are talking about.”

“But that’s only tricking your overthinking mind. If you stay still, have a quick break and ponder about the actions you made in your daily routine—such as babysitting, making Encanto laugh…”

“That’s already a lot of progress, Camilo. You’re unaware you are making a whole stair. It’s just that you think too much. You believe you’re not good enough.”

“So, remove that ‘five stars’ from your mind. You don’t need those stars just to prove that you did something because people already appreciate you.”

He, the rarely-behaved shapeshifter had his eyes in twinkle. “That’s...comforting. Gracias , Jayliah.”

The girl shrugs her shoulders, “No problem.”

Camilo blinks at her response. “A shrug? That’s it? After turning into a wizard?”

She shrugs again. “Then there's you who needs to be half-asleep to act decent and normal.”

His laughter filled the air, the two awoke owls conversing as if it’s the end of the world. 

“Seriously, how can you find comforting words casually?”

“Bec-“

“Yep. Don’t say ‘because I know what it feels like to be in your shoes’.” He copies her monotonous tone.

Jayliah then kept silent, hesitating.

“C’mon, Milagrosa. You’ve helped me a lot. I think it’s my turn. AND! I prepared a whole list of questions for hours ! Not only that, you give me a hard time to figure you out!” He exaggerates.

She thought again: ‘Should I trust him?’

“Fine. Though, only ask one question tonight.”

Camilo kicked his feet in the air excitedly. “Esta bien!”

He prepares himself, cracking his knuckles. “Question of the day: Can you elaborate more about the shoes thing? You know, like—what happened that made you understand me?”

Her fingers tapped on her knee, reluctant. But, maybe it’s time for a change.

“When I was a child, I was judged a lot; on the way I look or the way I act. So, I made a mistake. I created personalities to match theirs, made myself look presentable to satisfy them, not me. I created and created things to the point that...I forgot who I am.”

The shapeshifter’s eyes softened at the revelation. He asks himself: ‘Is this why she never shows emotions? ’. 

“I’m sorry about that...If I find out who ‘them’ was, I’ll scare them to death!”

The girl hums. “That’s also why I don’t like it when you shapeshift. At least with me, you can’t do that or else you would be a carbon copy of me.”

Camilo nods in understanding. “Okay, you’re shifting the topic to me again! I’m fine right now. So, sit back and let me be the wizard for a few minutes.”

…

Half an hour later, they decided to go home. Now, they’re in the middle of the pathway where they will part ways. 

The girl hesitantly says, “Thank you for the talk.”

As a response, he smiles.

“Anytime, enigma!”

Their feet were glued to the ground, no one seemingly moving to part ways. So, with one last word, Camilo spoke again, exaggerating his hand movements.

“Before we part ways, let’s have a challenge! I will allow you to read me more openly—In one condition!”

“I’ll continue my detective persona so that I can ask one question each day, the next day, every day..! It’s only a fair game sooo... Deal ?”

He puts his hand out for a shake, only to be accepted by a matter of seconds.

“ Deal .”

Chapter Text

Among the busy market, the apple lady promoted her product once more. Long ago, it was the girl who avoided math and conversations who chose red apples. Today, on a sunny afternoon, it was the girl who loves math that picked an apple. She likes interacting too, hence why she pointed out a lost green apple at the pile of red, bothered by the misplacing.

“Oops. Ale, this got lost.” The sigurista informs the seller.

“Ah, thank you, chica!” The apple lady then sorts her products.

“What’s your name?” 

“I’m Liliyah Garcia!”

…

Years ago somewhere in the Philippines, that name “Liliyah Garcia” was widely recognized by the town. Recognized for her achievements, especially in the academic field. Liliyah Garcia won many awards due to her intelligence, making her the talk of the academy she attends. Not only that, she leads various clubs and the teachers adore this bright girl. Meaning, her own family praised her. 

Her mother, Amanda, would throw a handa whenever she took home a trophy. She would flex her daughter to her fellow moms, full of pride that she felt lucky to have a daughter like Liliyah. 

It’s not only the shadow created by this family affecting the younger sister. Unbeknownst to them, this also formed too much sunlight for the older sister.

...

Three years ago , young Liliyah strolled back to her home with wobbly legs and shaking hands. She was anxious because she failed a quiz today. But she knew lying would worsen it, as if it was not bad already.

“How could you, ‘nak! You can’t let Gloria win over you! What happened to your straight ninety-eights? I’m disappointed Liliyah, you disappoint your whole family!” A mother of three scolds.

“Give me your hand.” 

“I’m sorry, Ma!” Young Liliyah cried as her mother yelled at her.

“Liliyah Garcia. Arms forward.” Amanda demands.

Shaking, she followed, preparing for the punishment. That night, she ran to her room crying, walking past her twinflower whose concern was etched on her youthful face.

“Ate-“ Young Jayliah calls.

“Leave me alone, Milagrosa!”

With a loud thud, she locks her door, hurt, disappointed, angry. She caught a glimpse of her reflection by the vanity. Strands were all over her head, ugly tears on her cheeks. With a forced smile, she picks up her brush and grooms herself. 

‘God! I look so imperfect, not good enough!’ She cries in her head.

Starting from that day, failure had become her fear. 

And also that day, her younger sister slipped in a paper under the small crack of the wooden door. The scared girl grabbed it and saw a messy sketch of her, receiving a hug from Jayliah with a side note: “ Ate, kain ka na. ”

Tears fell from her eyes again. She thought: ‘I’m the older one here, and yet, I’m the pathetic one! How could she bear with pain!? ’

Determination filled her heart. Until then, Liliyah vowed to protect her twinflower. 

~☻☹~

The picnic proposal between the two families came to reality. In between the split mountains where the colorful river flowed, all youngsters gathered. Within them, four women talked about a certain topic.

Isabela pats Liliyah’s shoulder, “I just think expectations got ahead of you. Oh, when I ungripped the role of the town’s señorita perfecta..”

“Feels like a dream…Luisa would agree too.” She sighs in relief.

“Totally. You can come over to Casita and borrow my hammock, if you’d like.” The buff woman who grew fond of the Garcias, reassures Liliyah, who ranted about her life.

Then, Dolores chimes in, “You deserve a break too. I can give you a massage, amiga.”

“Thanks...But I’m afraid you all would get called ‘bad influences’ by my mother.”

The three Madrigals shared knowing glances.

“ Well, there’s something fun about that, right ?” 

With that, the four stifled content laughter.

…

Meanwhile on the other side, the younger ones were talking about an unserious topic. They had their own circle; Mirabel, Camilo, Andres, and Jayliah.

“Guys, hear me out! That camera boy was fineee…! Even the way he mutters Spanish...It made me wish we were colonized by Spaniards again!” A boy squealed.

“That’s absurd.” The scary Garcia comments, followed by Mirabel’s teasing.

“As long as it’s not another Gabriel, you’re safe.” 

“Sí, sí. We might end up with polished heads.” The shapeshifter jokes, earning a pebble-throw from Jayliah, affected by his joke.

“Come on...It’s been years. Let go of Gabriel already!” Andres complains.

“That’s like your personality now, sorry not sorry.” They kept teasing. 

“Argh! Whatever, tell me his name already.”

Fortunately for the eager Garcia, Mirabel answered, “It’s Mateo. Mateo Pérez.” 

The revelation made Camilo choke in his arepa. 

“Did you just say Pèrez?”

“Uh..yeah, why? OH!” She began clutching her stomach due to her primo, laughing in realization.

He then giggles too, boasting. “You have a crush on someone whose father received a taste of Tia’s magical hot sauce because of me !” 

This made the robotic girl slightly raise her brow. “Why?”

“Ah, simple. When I was a kid, Señor Pèrez was hurting a feline because it only followed him innocently. You can’t blame me! He deserved it.”

Andres snickers at the idea. “A vigilante type of prank, huh? Are there any recent... bad people here besides Mirabel? I wanna prank too!”

“Excuse me?” Madrigal's miracle crossed her arms and glared at him.

On the other hand, the chameleon listed down people. So far, he didn’t know anyone. However, thankfully, Jayliah saves the day.

“Your dad is a bad person.” She suggests to Andres, his eyes litting up at the idea.

“You’re absolutely right! Perfect timing because he needs to accept the fact that I like boys,” He cups his palm on the side of his mouth and whispers, “ Specifically a specimen called Mateo Pérez… ” 

“Tsk tsk. What a rebellious thought. I like it.” Camilo mischievously smirks. 

Mirabel, rarely joining in pranks, somehow joined because this is for her beloved best friend who had a dad with an awful belief. So, she asks the group, “Got any plans?”

“...”

“We could scare him with a tikbalang.” The tall Garcia grins and puts his palms together, an evil plan stored in his brain. However, the two Madrigals were utterly confused.

“What’s a tikbalang?”

~☻☹~

September 17, 1952

This is day six of solving the case of an enigma! So far, I’ve learned a lot other than the Gabriel and shoe thing. Jayliah answered my question: “Have you lost someone before?”. She replied it was her childhood dog named ‘Darna’. She also told me not to ask questions about the funny name because it’s Andres who named it...Once she told me about her dog, I can’t help but notice that she actually was kind to animals. Can you believe it? A cold-blooded fantasma petting a cat on a random, sunny day? I teased her for it since then!

Now, I didn’t ask if she could do anything else other than drawing. But, once me and mi amigazos planned the prank agenda, she volunteered to catch Señor Ramon’s attention by playing the guitar. Welp, that’s another discovery.

Anyway, I gotta go and do my passion in pranking now >:)

…

The four teens trekked their way to Garcia's monochrome mansion. However, they didn’t follow the path and settled down in the woods near it. The dried leaves crunched against their steps, the boys holding lanterns while the stoic girl held her guitar and the bright-minded girl carrying a tikbalang mascot she hand-crafted.

“You could have just made Camilo shift to a horseman instead of creating a costume.” The tall Garcia tells Mirabel. But instead of her replying, it was the robotic girl behind them who spoke.

“I already said no.”

Andres stopped in his tracks, biting back a laugh. “Naku, ‘insan! Umiibig ka na ba? You’re suddenly protective over my amigo over here.” He ruffles the shapeshifter’s hair who was confused by the language barrier and was clueless of what they were talking about.

“No. It’s called ‘kindness’ and you assume horrible things because you don’t do kindness.” She responds, gaining an “ooooh” from Mirabel.

“She’s right, Andres. It’s more fun that way! Right, primo?”

“Of course!  Just don’t give me permanent bad posture, Andres.”

“Your posture is already bad, Camilo…”

They conversed, the shapeshifter being dramatic as usual, telling them that he’d rather die than to be stuck in the body of a hairy horse. 

Unbeknownst to the three, one girl zoned out, trailing behind them once they passed an area. There was a small clearing opening to a familiar cliff. The cliff she painted during her art sessions with Señor Fernan . It was the same, slippery stone she encountered in her dreams.

A weight of anxiety dropped in her stomach and she did not know why.

“Pst! ‘Insan! It’s nearing nine. We gotta disturb Papa’s prayer routine!”

Jayliah shakes her head, following and tries not to think of it too much.

…

The two girls now helped the two boys climb up the rock near Ramon’s bedroom. And they were definitely not sneaky . It was only luck that their target is equally brainless as them. 

Camilo was grunting in pain once a tall specie stepped on his shoulders who was in full tikbalang costume.

“Ay, Andres! My back hurts!”

“Shhh...keep it down, will you? Besides, you asked for this. I told you, you could have just shapeshifted…!”

From below, Mirabel watches the two setup. Once they looked ready, she sent a signal to the guitarist.

…

Ramon is a man of perfection, or maybe the idea of building a perfect image runs along the Garcias. He grew up in a home where everyone underestimates him, “useless” as his parents told him. Growing up, he was unaware envy became his personality. He sees a man stronger than him? Ramon would act all powerful. He sees a family happier than his? He tries his best to hold onto his beloved son and wife; Andres and Armani.

In summary, Ramon is a strong, desperate man. So strong that he uses his strength to release his pent-up emotions to the two people he failed to protect. So desperate to be perfect that he scolds his son for liking boys. 

Unhealed and unpolished trauma was his shield to ‘protect’, unaware that he had turned into his parents . 

Everything in Encanto seems happy. He hated it because all of their homes are lively, except for his . With a tone of pleading, he prayed on his daily basis. 

“Aming Diyos na pinupuri, bigyan niyo po ng pag-asa ang aking pamilya! Sapagkat, ‘di na namin kaya mamuhay ng mahirap! Ay, Ama...bakit ganito ang anak ko? Bakit ginugusto niya ang mga lalaki? Paano lalago ang aming buhay! Sana po ay imulat ninyo si Andres na mali ang kanyang paniniwala-“

His begging stopped once he heard a euphonious tune of strings. “Armani? Bumalik ka ba sa pagtugtog?”

No one answered, pushing him to inspect. The wooden floor creaked as he followed the music, which came from the opened window near the trees. 

“Hello?” Ramon says, squinting his eyes at the foggy scenery. It was warm inside. But, he shivered when he saw a silhouette of a horse...with the body of a muscular man. Then, “it” spoke.

“Ramon Garcia…” The tikbalang whispers.

With a panicked move, he grabbed his rosary and continued praying.

“Patawad, Panginoon! My wife was right! I’m a bad person—!” He cries, frightened. But the boy behind the fake tikbalang didn’t give a care.

The horseman revealed itself from the fog, approaching the poor father of his. 

“Tanggapin mo anak mo!” The tikbalang growls, making Ramon nod his head in repetition. 

“I will, I w-will! ARMANI!”

Andres broke out of his character once his father called his mother’s name.

“Bobo naman neto...Camilo, quick! Hide!” The two boys hid below the window—One trying not to laugh and one with exhausted shoulders. Carefully, the two girls snooped in as well. 

Once Ramon’s scared ass faded away with his confused wife, the four peaked their heads through the window.

Then, Andres laughed out loud, wheezing even.

“HAHAHAHAHAH! My papa looked so horrible!”

“Great job, guys!” Mirabel cheered. Meanwhile, Camilo was quiet, trying to regain his strength.

“I think I broke a bone.” He murmurs.

“Nah, you’re good, ‘Milo.” Andres pats his shoulder purposely hard, making the shapeshifter squeal in pain.

On the side, Jayliah casually hops in the window with her guitar.

“Jayliah! Are you dumb?? You’ll get caught!” Camilo suddenly stood up, despite his pained shoulders.

“This is my home, dumbhead .” The robotic teen replies, making Mirabel and Andres chuckle, hitting each other’s arms violently.

“The way you defensively stood up—Pfft- HAHA!” Mirabel teased. 

Embarrased, he yelled, “Whatever!...I’m gonna head back to Casita. Thanks for the prank, it crushed my back!” He began to walk away, oddly resembling the scary Garcia standing by the windowsill; always turning the other direction.

Just like that, they separated, greeting each other a goodnight. 

Andres hopped in the window and nudged his cousin’s shoulder—who was busy staring out the window.

“Huy, ‘insan. Thinking about old, wise, ancient thoughts again?”

“Thanks for the compliment.”

“Hm. Thank you for the idea too, old soul. You’re a rebel-“

He began to turn away, preparing for slumber. But before he does, he added,

“—In a good way. Night, Jayliah!”

“Night..”

...

The quiet night embraced her once more. With a deep inhale, she indeed pondered about “ancient” things again, such as friendship . 

Literally, friendship is ancient. Communicating was the sole reason world improvement began. And in communicating, friendship will arise. Surely, the first homo sapiens became the bestest of friends. 

Jayliah thought friendship is a recurrence; it exists in the past, present, and the future and never disappears. It only evolves with the world. That’s why sudden judgment appeared. Her Lola Leonora and Abuela’s bond is a great example. She could still recall her grandmother’s tales about her and Alma, attached to the hip despite Leonora being “rich”, and Alma being a bit below “average”. 

As life evolves, friendship evolves until it becomes a war of social status .

So, in the accompaniment of Jayliah’s soft mattress, she fell asleep with memories of her only friend that kept up with her nature.

~☻☹~

Long ago during a stormy day, a stray dog was kicked out from a shelter.

“Get lost, Aspin!” A man shuts his door loudly, the poor dog shivering from the cold. It only wanted a roof for the rain. It had nowhere to go but wander in the streets as chilling drops of water plop against its brown fur. 

By the distance, a little girl watched that happen. With urgent steps, she approached the brown Askal. The dog flinched, misunderstanding the situation.

“It’s okay, pup…” Innocent Jayliah crouched down, urging the dog to near the roof of her colorful umbrella.

Little Askal sniffed the girl’s hand. Within a second, she gently pets its head.

She was six years old when she took care of “Darna”, named after Andres who was obsessed with the comics of Philippines’ local wonder woman that time. 

Her dog, Darna, was there whenever Amanda gets mad at her, sometimes barking defensively to the furious woman. Darna was there when little Jayliah cried in her bed, as if the headboard was someone’s shoulder . 

And in return, Jayliah was there to nurture her beloved dog as if she was taking care of an innocent child she unconsciously wanted to be .

Then, the day arrived. She was eight years old when she lost her friend. Not a human friend, but an animal. Little Jayliah thought it was unfair that creatures who aren’t cruel, unlike humans, store a short life span. 

Up until now, she kept a certain plush that resembles Darna. It was gifted by an old friend of hers named “ Marie ”. 

~☻☹~

For the past few days, it’s not only her thinking about friendship.

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, a skilled tailor married a beautiful woman and had one child. A child with chocolate skin, and dark hair. As this child developed, he did not hesitate to express himself, completely ignorant of his parents’ protests. He wore jewelry and rings in his daily routine. And at least once a week, his nail designs would change. 

Mateo Pérez is a confident peacock, proudly wearing his identity. This includes the fact tha he opens his colorful feathered tails to attract both genders.

Ever since Señora Amanda’s birthday, he looked everywhere for his muse. He barely sees her, but when he does...He would see her hanging around some teens. All this led to one thing; Mateo thought that the Garcia and Madrigal’s friendship was beautiful.

On a sunny day, he sat in the high chair of his father’s shop, looking at the photos he took. Specifically pictures from the twelfth of September. More specifically, the most elegant girl he had ever seen.

And then, by a bell chime, a customer came in, quickly putting his camera down.

~☻☹~

“Just do it, Andres!” A certain shapeshifter encouraged him.

“I can’t! What if I mess up??? Jayliah, you gotta reassure me!” He complained.

“You’re going to do fine.” The girl murmurs.

“See? You have double reassurances now. Get inside, amigo!” Camilo pushes him towards the entrance, immediately hiding outside where his puzzle stands next to him, more interested in the kids playing at the fountain. A mischievous smirk crept on his cheeks.

“You planning to scare them off, Milagrosa?”

Taken aback, she replies, “What? No.”

“But you look like it.”

“Get used to it already. I don’t kill children. I value them.” She said before marching towards the group of kids.

“Wait! What about Andres??” He catches up.

“He is a giant, he can handle it.”

Camilo gasped, mimicking Edvard Munch’s painting ‘The Scream’. “You can talk to kids??”

“No, idiot. I’m going to wish for something.” She sat over the fountain, searching for a penny in her satchel.

The shapeshifter copies her actions, letting her flip the coin toward the shallow water first. With a lucky kiss, Camilo throws his coin next.

“I wish to be free from my last name!”

Jayliah blinked at his exclamation. “You’re supposed to keep it a secret if you want that to happen.”

“Psh. As if this fountain grants wishes...I mean, what could stop responsibility from chasing me?” He chuckles.

The comfort of the children laughing surrounds them, the youth who dreams big other than the two teens sitting with a weight on their shoulders.

Surprisingly, the scary Garcia gathered up her courage and cursed. “You got a shitty last name.”

The shapeshifter’s jaw hung open for the second time before he agreed.

“Yep. Real shitty.”

“Mine too.”

The two talked in simple language. But behind that, they’re aware of each other’s interpretation.

…

Meanwhile inside, by a bell chime, a customer came in. The once-confident character stood awkwardly as he made eye contact with a certain boy with his curly hair tied in a half-bun, and rings on his fingers...Oh, how wish Andres would receive a ring from him.

“Ay-Uh-Ola! Kamusta!” He nervously chuckles.

The tailor’s son smiled in a friendly way. “How may I help you?” 

Mateo got off his high chair, standing face-to-face with the tomato.

“Uhm...The Garcias-! I mean, my family would like to have the physical photographs from days ago!” 

“Oh, right.” He hands him an envelope of the pictures.

“Salamat…” In Andres’ mind, he thought: ‘Holy, you’re undeniably hot… ’

In the tiny room, the other boy who is slightly shorter than the tall “boy-magnet”, was filled with thoughts too. Distracted, he saw two particular individuals seated on the fountain by the window of his father’s shop—The girl he adores with the town’s shapeshifter. Mateo glanced at his customer.

“Is there something going on with Camilo and your cousin?” He asked. No, he wouldn’t dare to make a move if that was the case.

On the other hand, Andres had been silently shipping the unusual duo. ‘Maybe, but I’ll say no to make the conversation longer!’ He thought.

“No, what made you think of that?”

“Nothing. I noticed you and the gals are close, especially them.”

“Are they? Trust me, kaibigan. They bicker constantly. One mischievous and one apathetic. Cool, right?”

“Yeah…” The charismatic boy murmured, making scenarios in his head. Oh, he would want that apathetic smile. But, Andres wanted to make him laugh.

He cleared his throat. “Cool fashion, by the way!” Andres sends a playful wink and a thumbs up.

The boy smiled at him and flipped his curls. 

“Ah, I’m the tailor’s son after all.”

The two shared a laugh. 

“I’m Andres if you’re not aware..”

“Mateo.”

At that moment, the tall Garcia swore his sweat bled into his magnificent palm as they shook hands.

However, the big question is; ‘Will this be another friendship?’

Perhaps, this theoretical thought would be applied in various ways.

~☻☹~

The satisfied stomachs allowed the table to sigh, except her who had her feelings caged. Jayliah had no appetite to finish her lunch due to her grandmother’s big mouth and she wanted her to be dehydrated and stop spitting useless words.

“--Good news is…A distant friend from our homeland sent us a bagful of money!”

The Garcias applauded unhappily but oddly formal. 

“Bad news is...the Madrigals are ten times ahead of us…”  Garcia's matriarch announced.

“We have a lot to work on. Carmel and Julio, when will Niko learn to speak??”

The eldest daughter of Amanda bowed her head at the words of her Lola Leonora.

“Andres! Be normal for once..!” She scolds the boy who doesn’t care, enjoying his food more than her toxic tongue. Andres’ father cannot reply as well, traumatized by the tikbalang incident.

Then, the matriarch’s gaze fell on Jayliah’s unmannered look. “And you...Stop causing trouble and learn to smile, puta!”

With an unbothered face, the stoic girl stands up and walks away from the family “lunch”, blocking out the protests ringing in her ears, ignoring the fact that her mother would scold her again. 

…

Normally, an artist would settle down on a nice, peaceful field to create art. Yet today, she changed her mind and went somewhere near the busy market. One emotion emphasized her right now; Anger. So, she surrounded herself with the loud crowd and began doing nothing but splash paint over the canvas. Too focused on working, she disconnected from reality. 

She had no idea of what she painted. It was all tangled lines of strokes; a reflection of her mind filled with knots of bashful comments and frustration. ‘ How could that old woman swear in front of Niko? How could she force Andres not to be himself? How could she care about superiority but not her own damn family? ‘ 

“Are you okay? That doesn’t look like a plain abstract to me.” Snapped out of her bubble, her eyes searched for the mysterious speaker. Behind her stood the peacock, the sun rays trying to pass through his fashionable clothes. 

Embarrassment washed over Jayliah’s soul. There’s no way her cousin’s puppy crush witnessed her going through five stages of rage. She gulped, successfully drowning her emotions at the moment. 

“An abstract must be purely from the heart.” She excused. However, it wasn’t only Camilo’s little wizard friend who could see through masks. Mateo hummed and observed the girl he had been thinking of for days. 

“Your eyes don’t lie. Something’s bothering you to throw a fit by art.” 

The tables switched, making the girl look away. Two wizards conversing at once. Such a nice combination, the boy thought. But the girl desperately wished to punch this guy’s nose after reading her like that. She swore she was only caught because she was disconnected from consciousness. 

Jayliah sighs, trying her best not to bully a boy again. “I am excited. That’s all.”

“Why is that?” 

‘ Damn you! Stop being nosy and leave me alone!’ She thought. Jayliah tried to think of something that would make her excited. But none came up…So, she just randomly blurted out words, or rather, a name.

“Camilo.” 

The peacock took a sharp inhale but smiled. “You have a date or something?” 

“No. Never in my life would I be romantic, especially with that hideous rat.” 

A burst of laughter blended in the sounds of chatter. “Why the shapeshifter then?” 

“He sprained his ankle earlier. That’s why.” 

“How sadist of you, Garcia…You also created a masterpiece from it.” 

There was silence again, a cue for the painter to continue her “excitement”. She pondered in confusion why she could suddenly communicate with a stranger. It was most likely the effect of building a friendship with the Madrigals. Meanwhile, the boy was enthralled by the way her hand moved through the canvas. Sighing, he asked a random question to talk to her more. 

“On a scale of ten, how mature do you think you are?” 

“...”

“It’s like drinking an innocent cup of hot chocolate and with a blink of an eye, your fingers are wrapped around a mug of caffeine.” 

There was a sense of understanding going on as if the two wizards’ minds clicked. He understood what she was trying to say. But, he was too distracted by her facial expression when she spoke. 

“Your words are as beautiful as you are.” 

The girl glanced at him with a blank expression. “Thank you.”

Mateo observed her once more, taken aback by her stoic response. He thought he’d be able to fluster her. But then again, she was the epitome of a rock. The more time passes, the more he squeezes his precious camera. ‘Screw this, I’m gonna do it !’

“May I take a picture?” 

Jayliah puts down her brush. “Yeah, sure.” 

She stood up, behind Mateo. The boy mentally cursed. He was aiming for her beauty, not her abstract painting. Nonetheless, he bent his knee to capture the canvas.

“Gracias…Uh..I’ll see you when I see you, hermosa.” 

“Bye.” 

As he was away, Jayliah sighed with relief. ‘ Bobong ‘yon...That’s right, walk away. ’

~☻☹~

Mirabel and Camilo were inseparable despite how much they fought. Long ago, during the ceremony of Mirabel’s birthday, the two were smacking pillows on each other’s youthful faces. To the chameleon’s joy, his prima fell flat on her bed. 

“HA! I won ‘Mira!” 

The girl crossed her arms bashfully. “Hmph! Just wait, I’ll beat you after getting my gift!” 

“I’m counting on that!” 

A knock erupted from the door, revealing Abuela with a heartfelt smile. 

“Get ready for the big day you two…Especially you, Mirabel.” 

The tiny girl had a small plastered all over her face that morning. A contrast after dusk arrived, mirroring the frowning identities watching the ceremony. That night, little Mirabel cried in her room, pillow soaked with her tears. Then, the door creaked open, creating a shadow of a boy who sneaked out of his room. 

“Mirabel…” He gently shook her shoulder.
“Go away, Camilo!” 

But the kid knew it was wrong to leave her alone like this. Suddenly, the crying girl felt a weight by her side, feeling her frail figure sitting up for an embrace. 

“It’s okay, prima…I would never stop hanging out with you. You’re the best cousin I could ask.” 

Mirabel choked in her tears, now relaxing and having a breakdown in his small arms. 

“Thank you, Camilo…I hope we keep being best friends..” 

“No problem. And…if you want to beat me in wrestling, I bet you will–with gift or no gift!” 

Mirabel giggles before she pulls away, “Is that so?” 

“Absolut—AY!” 

For real, she did beat him up to death that night. 

“You better keep your promise, Camilo!” 

“I will.” 

Curse him, little Mirabel thought. The more he grew up, the more he became distant–always out in the town, helping around with his amazing shapeshifting skills. She hated looking at the mirror, a remembrance of who she was ; a non-special special Madrigal. 

Thankfully, the Casita incident happened a year ago. Mirabel realized she was not born to help the town and please them with a superpower. Instead, she is the catalyst for making her family realize that it’s not always the town to help. They were broken and Mirabel patched up those cracks hiding beneath their faces.  

After Casita revived, there was a sense of nostalgia when the two youngsters reconnected once more. The duo returned and Mirabel could not wish for more. 

…

As the two obliged the long list of necessary stocks for Julieta’s recipes, they stumbled upon two cousins who had a deep history like them. 

“Your taste will never be good, Andres. He kept pestering me with random questions.” The stoic girl complained from the distance, also picking up fruits.

“And your trust issues would never go away, beh.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Yeah! You heard me right, you boy-allergi-!”
“GUYS!” The two Garcias stopped their heated argument when Mirabel’s voice rang, the shapeshifter giggling beside her.

“Gosh, what are you two even talking about to offend each other like that?” Mirabel asked. 

“Oh! Right on time, Madrigals! Jayliah over here kept shit-talking the love of my life.” 

“Not surprised, amigo. Don’t get me started about her inability to draw boys.” Camilo comments. 

“In my defense, Mateo was staring at me violently.”

“Tsk. You’re just a hater. At least be grateful he complimented you!”

“That’s different, Andres. I only take compliments when they see past my appearance—Like admiring the moon’s peace more than its spots-“

“Why the hell do you even speak like an old philosopher??”

“...”

“I’m leaving this useless circle.” Jayliah walks away, focusing on the task in hand. The three teens stood still, watching the robotic girl sulk. 

“Emo-ass..” Andres snickered. 

“That’s a mean adjective, amigo.” Mirabel murmurs. 

Then, the shapeshifter asked, “Why’s she mad at boys anyway? A genuine question.” 

With that query, the two Madrigals stared at the tall Garcia with pleading eyes. 

“Well, maybe it’s because her dad went to buy milk and never came back.” 

Mirabel had a frown now. “Poor girl..”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Andres?” The detective on-duty comments.

“It means her dad left for another woman, peabrain.”

With that straightforward statement and coming from a trustable source, the two Madrigals remained quiet. Camilo felt somewhat... guilty for making fun of her hatred. 

“That explains why she told me about the boys she rejected as if they were medals.” The girl realized.

“Isn’t that kinda...bad?” 

“Not at all, ‘Milo. She pulls the worst boys. One had a girlfriend and the other one..Erm...Let’s say he traumatized a lot of girls.”

Mirabel winced at the thought, “Those people exist in your town?”

The boy was shocked by it. He thought those things don’t go beyond fiction. 

Thanks to Andres’ revelation, he had another question in goal to ask his puzzle.

HERE’S THE ART!! TYSM FOR WAITING 

Chapter Text

Boys, boys, boys…Tsk, how immoral they are!  Imagine telling your spouse the famous line “I love you”. Then, leaving after spending decades together as lovers. She never understood the concept of romance. Why desire a different flower when a whole bouquet exists in his life? She always asked herself that whenever she pondered about her father. She could only recall one thing about him; his hand with a scar . Nothing more. His voice, his face, and his personality cease to exist in her memories. Naturally, someone’s absence would make you forget about them. Then, why couldn’t she forget about someone who left her at age two? 

For all one knows, his disappearance left an open wound. She just couldn’t imagine how a man left a family without regret. Perhaps, he found a more blooming flower than her mother. And her theories were accurate. 

…

It was a saturated day on the twenty-fifth of September when Jayliah knelt at the long wooden seats of the town’s church. She didn’t care if Encanto had a different belief. All that mattered was that her hands were clasped together, eyes shut tight as she silently prayed for her past friend: Marie Gonzales . It’s been two years yet, Jayliah had her name engraved in her heart. She remembers all of it–their shared passion for art, the waves of laughter, and especially the night guilt washed over her. 

…

Devils wear an enchanting skin to lure people in . 

Fourteen-year-old Jayliah sat on her seat, bored as she watched her two friends dance under the party lights: The Kapitan’s son, Joaquin, and his girlfriend, Marie. She sighed, not knowing what to do during her school’s Valentine’s Day celebration. Even more, she hated this day (except for the chocolates) when her two friends would be so giddy with each other. She’s not against them but they were getting too in love. So, when Marie approached her dearest friend with Joaquin’s hand around her waist firmly , she asked, “Hi, Jay! Do you think you could come and help me with my cosmetics touch-ups?” 

“You’re asking a favor from a girl with the inability to do makeup.” 

“That’s my point. At least try, please? Joaquin’s makeup sucks.” 

“Joaquin’s got a bit of skill and I have zero. So-” 

“I know right!” The Kapitan’s son exclaimed. Jayliah raised her brow at her friend’s sudden interruption but shrugged. Meanwhile, Marie’s shoulders tensed up. 

“I’ll give you chocolates if you help me instead of him, Jayliah.” 

“I already consumed a bag of it. No thanks to diabetes.” 

Joaquin smirked at Jayliah’s remark before he turned Marie around with him. “Just come with me, mahal. I’ll take care of you .” 

With a shaky breath, Marie looked back at her clueless, stoic friend. That night, Jayliah could have saved her . 

…

Two weeks had passed since Valentine's Day when, around midnight, her friend broke into her window. Jayliah let her nightgown be stained with tears. Unaware of what had transpired, she attempted to comfort her crying friend.

“Marie, what’s wrong?” She asked. 

“I-I don’t know what to do, J-Jayliah!” 

“What? What do you mean?” 

“I’m pregnant! I’m pregnant with his stupid baby!” 

The young girl froze. “What? How? Wh-”

Then, she recalled that night. Why is it only now she realized something was off?

“I’m so sorry, Marie– I- I could have helped you with your makeup-” 

“No, no! Don’t blame yourself- I was deceived by him! God! I only loved him, I loved him, I had to prove it- He made me do it!”

Jayliah hugged her friend tightly, guilty. But she pushed her feelings away. This is about Marie, not her—a pool of tears, filled with empathy and rage, formed in her eyes.

“What about my dreams?? What about it, Jayliah? This is all my fault!”

“No, no—Marie. This isn’t your fault, it’s his .”

“I want to die already!”

The girl’s heart dropped at her wish. With a tighter embrace, as if not wanting to let Marie go, she said, “Don’t say that, Marie..I- Don’t ever say that- I’ll be here with you, I’ll be taking care of you and your child unlike that useless man he is, Marie- I’m here, I’m here.. Please remember that..”

To hear that her friend’s dreams were halted because of the boy she was close-tied with, it hurts like debris suffocating you. Thanks to Joaquin, he cleared Jayliah’s theory of why men tend to look for another flower; it depends on how a petal is shaped or how much it appeals to the eyes . And looking down at Marie, she felt pity and winced at the thought of having to deal with such a responsibility because of a man. She questions, ‘What about her dream of being a doctor? What about her dream house?’  

And in a matter of weeks, indeed, Marie’s future was cut short. A victim had died by herself. Jayliah stood in black attire, staring at her friend who only exists in photographs now. She was fighting back the urge to attack the boy next to her—who she had ended her friendship with. 

“You don’t belong here.” She murmurs, gaining a smirk from a ‘depressed’ boyfriend.

“What do you mean? I’m grieving for her.” Joaquin falsely sobs, making younger Jayliah clench her jaw.

“I never thought I’d have a huge weight of hatred towards someone. You did a lot of bad things—Me and Marie trusted you, stuck with you for years ...And you dared to do a sin? You’re such a devil attracting people in. Those people have no clue of how disgusting you are.”

“Glad you know people are clueless, Jayliah. Talk all about it, I’d still get away!”

He prepared to walk out with a grin, but only halted when she turned him around harshly, desperate to punch him right there.

“I will never forgive you, Joaquin. Remember that.”

The boy chuckles. “What can I say? Real men prioritize needs .”

…

A year later, two winged entities danced along to the music of Cariñosa; A folk dance between an angel and the devil. One of the dancers is Jayliah, eyes filled with immense anger as her eyes bore deep into the soul of her dance partner. That dance partner, Joaquin, grinned sweetly at her. A devil in disguise .

Some would say she was the villain here, attempting to ruin the Kapitan’s golden son’s reputation. But in reality, it was him who wore the sheep's clothing. So, when she received the news of having an arranged courtship with Joaquin, all the rage ignited back.

~☻☹~

Along the windy breeze on a grassy hill, his curiosity subsided down into a mix of emotions blended with discovery. Since Jayliah’s sulky walk-out, he was left full of questions. And now that it was answered, he did not know what to say.

“I’m sorry, Milagrosa..”

“It’s fine.”

As he tried to see past her stoic shell, he assumed she was lying.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You sure went through obstáculos! Andres’ ex-crush bullied you, you shifted personalities, your father left you, the Marie incident— And you- you’re telling me I barely scratched the surface??” Camilo rambles, raising Jayliah’s brow slightly.

“I’m okay. You’re just overly interested in solving a case.”

“And that’s one hell of a list I’ll have to do when I get back to Casita!”

“Why would you even write in the first place? I’m not your patient.”

“Oh, now you’re the joker here?” He crossed his arms and looked away with a frown.

“And you’re the sulker.” She continued, gaining a playful glare from the boy—Quietly picking up the girl’s habits.

“Well, then...Gotta bounce!” He quickly stood up and shoved a middle finger at her face.

“What the-“  Jayliah pushed his hand away.

“GOOD DAY, JAYLIAH! YOU LEFT ME FLABBERGASTED!” He shouts, now brisk-walking away.

“You asked for it.” 

That again, gained a middle finger from Camilo, not even turning his back at her as he walked. The girl shook her head and sighed, sort of relieved she talked about it. For the second time, a mask almost broke off.

…

As the shapeshifter sat on his messy desk, he wrote again.

September 25, 1952

Jayliah’s got an interesting mind– like her brain only belongs to her and no one else because not a single person has a functioning brain like that! Just how can she work like that? All grumpy outside but inside, it’s a trench with many veiled discoveries… The more I hang out with her, the more I realize things about life such as the fact that cruel people do exist. Well, not in Encanto…I mean, look at Gabriel! I don’t even know his actual appearance but I can tell…that boy’s an ogro ! And Joaquin? He’s the final boss ogro ! 

Now, I understand why Jayliah is so pissed off at men. She was surrounded by a lot of ogres. And for some reason, I want to show her that I am the mighty and handsome Camilo Madrigal and I am not an ogro ! Which is why…I’m gonna do something about it >:)

~☻☹~

Isabela Madrigal had a habit of gossiping, especially with the girl with super-hearing. Those two never changed in being chismosas. So, when her beloved cousin with an annoying grin asked for a bouquet of white flowers which means unconditional love …Oh dear, the two women squealed and one question lingered in their minds: “ Was Camilo finally falling in love? ”

…

Unfortunately, the answer was no . He searched everywhere for her the following day. His knees were weak but still hadn’t given up. All that effort led to him finally spotting the robotic girl by the famous river, her nose buried in a book.

“Ola, fantasma!” 

The greeting caught her attention but she immediately traveled down to the bouquet. 

“What’s that for?”

“ Late condolences. ” The boy replies and hands her the white flowers that represent peace .

Jayliah gripped on the neck of it, slightly surprised. “Thank you.”

And then, it was only the sounds of the river flowing and the birds’ music not until he spoke.

“I’m sorry I walked out yesterday. I was just..surprised, amiga. It was a lot to take in.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

“No, I want to diss men with you.”

“What?” Unbeknownst to him, Jayliah was trying not to jump excitedly.

“C’mon..Drop names!”

“Uhh...Mateo.”

“ Que ?? Like Andres’ crush?? Why?” He laughs.

“Don’t know. I see him everywhere and I’d caught him staring at me violently.”

“Maybe he likes you.” 

That mortified the girl, and it made Camilo laugh again.

“HAHA! Look at your face! I was just kidding anyway— Andres might sue me, perhaps, you too!”

“Glad you know.” She focused on reading again. Curious, Camilo peeked at the book cover.

“Le Petit–what?” 

“Nosy but it’s Le Petit Prince, translation–The Little Prince.”

The boy lays down on the soft patch of grass, inhaling the breeze. “I can’t imagine myself finishing a book. Dolores gave me a book once. One paragraph in, I gave up.”

“Who asked?” Jayliah tries to annoy him, which she does.

“You get to tease me now? I see character development right there!”

“Mhm. I meant it though. Who asked? I don’t expect you to be a replica of me. I love books and you don’t. Leave it be.”

The shapeshifter hums but follows up, “What if I’m curious? You think I can shoot a question?”

“Sure.”

“Coming from the perspective of the nerd herself, why do you love reading?”

“Simple. It’s a little escape from reality and the lessons you can pick up from it. But I believe it depends on your interest. For instance, I hate romantic novels– too cheesy for my good. But I like books containing lots of analogies and hidden interpretations where you can ponder about life and its complexity–like this one.”

“Well, no offense but…your book looks like a children’s selection. How is that tackling…life?”

Jayliah closed her beloved book and took a deep breath to prepare for yapping. “That’s the theme of this story. It says: ‘Growing up isn’t the problem, forgetting is.’ which means it talks about how a creative child could end up being a soulless adult. You know…adults tend to scold a lot and put themselves in a situation where they lose against the destructive wave of life–like your Abuela a year ago-”

“Pfft! You’re evil.”

“No, I’m being honest. But the point is…Children look more on the bright side of life, unlike grown-ups, who slowly get eaten alive by its harshness. It only takes courage to face your fear of growing up by taking your inner child with you as it reminds you that there are still things to love about life. Maybe then…you won’t be the stereotypical workaholic man every adolescent fears.”

Once again, Camilo felt like he was crushed by a gigantic metal bell. He had no idea why his chest felt heavy after hearing that. The wizard took notice of his mood. 

“You okay?”

“Uh..yeah– I think a pebble went through my eye...Dios, that was beautiful. It made me realize that I may look like I have my inner child with me because I goof around a lot... but honestly? I’m quite an overthinker too, y’know?”

“Hm. You’re starting to sound like me, chameleon.”

“That’d be amazing, milagrosa!”

With a contented silence, he genuinely smiled at her. Not a prankster, not a Madrigal…just him . Camilo –the boy who plays hide and seek a lot. Though in his case, he’s good at hiding unless the seeker was Jayliah. So, the seeker looks down at his lying figure, glad that he was finally not scared of her. 

Then, behind them, someone gasped...or rather two people gasped. And those were none other than their respective cousins.

“What is going on here!?”

Camilo frantically sat up as the girl calmly turned around, revealing Mirabel’s suspicions. It was a sight to see; The shapeshifter’s wide eyes and the enigma’s lap occupied with the bouquet.

“PRIMO?? YOU- YOU AND JAYLIAH??”

He went red due to embarrassment while the girl was confused, “What’s wrong?”

“I TOLD YOU MIRABEL! I BETTED ON THEM!” Andres squealed, hitting the robotic girl with realization.

“That is the most horrendous idea you got from your horrendous head.” She stands up, holding the bouquet so gently.

“C’mon ‘insan...Look at Camilo—all red, and then you, holding flowers!!”

“I’M EMBARRASSED AND PISSED OFF BY THE ASSUMPTION!” The shapeshifter whined.

Mirabel and Andres both jumped in joy, only to stop when Jayliah spoke, “This is for Marie.”

The tall Garcia clicked his tongue, “I uhm..sorry ‘bout that. Got too jumpy.”

“Who’s Marie?” The girl with glasses asked.

“Jayliah’s late friend,” Andres answers.

“Oh, my condolences…Is that why you have the flowers?”

The robotic girl was about to speak up but the prankster outdid her.

“She mentioned it was for Marie, idiota .” 

“Okay, in my defense– I was being considerate, ‘Milo!”

“I WAS TOO! I WAS THE ONE WHO GAVE HER THE FLOWERS!”

“WHAT???”

“YEAH!”

The commotion earned a shared eye contact between Andres and Mirabel before they squealed in unison: “ It’s the thought that counts~ ”

This made Jayliah walk away once more, tired of their daily bantering. Meanwhile, Camilo raised his brows.

“What the hell does that mean, guys?? It must have been a bad implication! Y'all made her walk out again!”

“Dense ass!” Mirabel teased.
“For real! And here I am Mira, kinikilig pwet ko!” 

~☻☹~

As Jayliah got home, she planned on writing in her diary. But she felt like it wasn’t enough. She needs to talk to someone who understands her side. So, with a sigh, she knocked on her sister’s room.

“Come in!” 

With that signal, Jayliah was in a room opposite hers; there were various collections of hair accessories and organized items. 

“Hi, Jay! Isabela and Dolores told me Camilo gave you flowers?” Liliyah wiggled her brows.

“Don’t assume things. He gave them to me for Marie.”

“Oh...Then, what brings you here?” She pats on her vanity chair which Jayliah follows. For some reason, she liked her hair styled only if it was made by her older sister.

“I want to talk about something.” 

She stared at Liliyah’s vanity mirror, watching as her sister brushed her hair.

“Mhm?”

“Are men the same?” Jayliah asked, making the older girl sigh.

“I’ve already told you about this. No, they’re not.”

“Then why haven’t you had a serious relationship with someone before? In fact, I only remember one guy you had a crush on, Ate.”

“That’s the downside of growing up with the absence of a father. My standards are insanely high and I didn’t have a serious relationship with Elias because I realized—It was solely out of desperation.”

“Desperation?” The younger girl murmurs.

“You know...It’s only natural to crave something you did not have. And in our case, that will be affection. Both from our whole family itself but to pinpoint it—Affection of a father or men.”

“But I avoid affection from men? You know I hate boys and I don’t get crushes.”

“That’s because it’s a different effect on you, you aromantic . I tend to fall in ‘love’ easily because I am desperate. On the other hand, you avoid men because you see every single boy the same as our father. You expect them to leave you. And I understand your belief especially after Joaquin did that.”

“Is it okay if I let that mindset be it?” She gulped, preparing for Liliyah’s bluntness.

“ No . You will be known as a snob which some boys probably know by now..” Liliyah chuckles before she continues, “But I know it will take a lot of time to fix that trust issue of yours-“

She pinched her younger sister’s cheeks, making Jayliah slap her hand away. Liliyah laughs again, “And I believe that starts with being nice to the boys you encounter, Jay. Have you talked to a boy here?”

“Uh...Mateo but I hated his stare. I think I only talked nice to Mang Fernan and Camilo…”

“Well, that's progress! Imagine painting with the town’s artist and receiving condolence flowers from the shapeshifter. You must have told them personal things that enabled them to get close to you!”

“I guess so.”

“See? It wasn’t that bad. You’re slowly trusting some men. Especially Camilo though...I can tell you told him about the heavy topic of Marie.”

“I did.”

Liliyah proudly smiled at her sister, finishing up the braids. “Anyway, I heard Mang Fernan’s birthday is coming. Got any plans? ”

Chapter Text

Early sunrise, she made a bell ring as her first activity of the day: bothering the local artist. Tomorrow was this man’s birthday–turning fifty. “Manong?” She waited for a response as she leaned on the shop’s counter. A minute later, Fernan appeared from the door inside the counter, “Not a surprise you’re my first customer remarkably early in the morning.” 

“I’m not here for paint. May I ask for your opinion?”

“I’m all ears, hija.” 

With a sigh, Jayliah queried, “Hypothetically, if you went to an adoption center and saw five pesky children, would you adopt them for a day? Considering there could be a hole in your heart that needs to be filled.” Fernan let out a fancy snicker, “A little blunt at the end, hm?”

“Sorry po, I just sensed that you wouldn’t want to be alone after-”

“I do.” He cuts the teen, sighing at the thought of his late wife and daughter. Yes, he followed the ‘butterfly myth’ to cope with his grief. It did work, however, there is no denying that the fire incident had made a stab–that stab , representing longing for what family feels like again. For years, Fernan did nothing but share his art despite only gaining a little money from it. “ Carpe diem, mi amor ,” said the woman he adores. It was a phrase his wife would say since they were young; Live your life to the fullest , she said from the very beginning until her last breath. And so, he took it seriously; he loved art as much as his late family. He blended art with them, every soft stroke provided the same comfort of their missed embrace. The two butterflies existed in each of his masterpieces to never forget about their faces. 

“Ay, dios…how can a teen make me sentimental with only a phrase?” Fernan blinks away his tears, alarming the girl. “It’s fine, Manong. I know how it feels.” Her reply gains a chuckle from the local artist, “Is this about your dog Darna?” 

“No, what I mean is that…I know what it’s like lacking a family. I don’t remember anything about my father after he found another rose.” 

“Oh, you stoic shell…Why only now have you told me this?” He chuckled once more. 

“I thought it was irrelevant…not until today-”  Then, a light bulb lit. “Manong, do you recall the first time I went here? There was a-”

“--Father and a daughter.” They spoke in unison, freezing to let it sink in. The man shook his head in amusement. “Must be the reason whyb painting sessions began. We share a similar longing…I missed having a daughter and perhaps, you want fatherly affection?” He smiles.

Somehow, Jayliah was confused. She had never thought of that before, too driven by her emotions—her anger towards men. It was only now that she reflected that rage wasn’t alone as an effect of hidden trauma. The longing was there, and it made her scared, a question running in her mind: “ Was my perception of men controlled with rage or longing ?”

“I never thought of it that way, Senor…” Jayliah answered.

“Esta bien, hija. Now, is that all you ask for today?” Shaking her head to shoo away her thoughts at the moment, she continued, “Opo. Would you care to sign?” 

He was shown a handwritten paper containing the names Andres, Camilo, Jayliah, Liliyah, and Mirabel. Fernan clicked his tongue, “What an unpleasant advanced present coming from my students I wish never to see again. Yes, I’ll be your legal father for the day tomorrow. ” 

…

For the past few days, the photographer has been confused as to why this certain Garcia keeps talking to him. It’s not like he hates his presence; he finds this strange-humored boy enjoyable to talk to. Plus, he thought he had advantages…such as knowing facts from his muse, Jayliah. So, when Andres invited him to bake a cake at the Casita, he willingly took it as an opportunity to converse with the girl.

“Get ready for the chaos, Mateo…They’re on crack every day-!” He warns, now seeing the same group of friends in the enchanted home’s kitchen. The group’s eyes settled on the uninvited person. 

“And who could this be?” The mother duck raised her brow. Beside her stood the monotone girl, eyes widening slightly as if telling the tall Garcia, ‘PUT@NG1#A MO !’

“Guys, calm down…Mateo’s a friendly gal! And, has a knack for baking too. That way, the cake won’t be that much of a stacked mud!” Andres reassured, gaining a sigh from Jayliah and a nod of approval from the rest of them. The mother duck noticed the girl’s disappointment, so she whispered, “Remember what we talked about, Milagrosa… be nice .” 

Jayliah nodded and bit the insides of her cheek, making the mischievous shapeshifter cackle at her face. “What an unlucky day…” He teased which gained a spatula spank on his palm. As the chain of ‘art of noticing’ continued, the interaction between the two gained a chuckle from Mateo. ‘They do bicker siblings like Andres said… ’ He thought. Oh, only if he knew Andres was lying to him the whole time…

As the group huddled, they began baking. In reality, everyone contributed except for the two pranksters who kept eating failed recipes. At least they were there to entertain, right?

“Did I ever tell you guys the story when I almost got rabies?”

“Que? I thought rabies comes from you, Andres.” Camilo spoke, earning a loud wheeze from Mirabel which only led to a slight mistake, “Oh, my bad-”

“Would you two stop it? The only contribution you make is mess things up!” Liliyah scolds them, which makes Andres tease more. “Ok, sigurista. Imperfection means Mang Hernan will see both the creativity and chaoticness in us!” 

Then, the shapeshifter added, “It’s part of the flavor.” The kitchen was filled with endless banters and complaints. Meanwhile, a photographer wished he brought his camera with him to capture this moment. And so, with all the courage, he speaks to the quiet girl next to him.

“How do you bear with them?” Mateo asked the busied girl. For a moment, he saw her look at her older sister but she quickly responded to him with a: “I don’t know either.”

Mateo hummed, now silently observing her hands working in mixing ingredients. At that moment he knew, words were stuck in his throat once more. However, surprisingly, the girl spoke. “What made you love photography?” The boy smiles at the ‘thoughtful’ question. But, inside Jayliah’s mind, she just wants this boy to get out and leave her be. 

“Oh…I grew up with a gardener-mom. I was influenced by her tendency to notice art in small things; such as the clouds, the ladybug on the grass, peals of laughter…I wanted to preserve anything that I found beautiful. So, I thank whoever invented cameras.” He zones out, letting the chaos of the moment fill him.

“And I regret not bringing my camera today. This moment is…something to remember.” He added, to which Jayliah agreed. She talks again for the sake of expanding the conversation. “Your answer explains why I bear with this bubble. Camaraderie is present no matter how loud and messy it gets.” 

For the second time, the boy understood her words, it’s just that he was too distracted by the way her face looked peaceful. Then, he said something foolish, “That’s why I take my camera with me around the town. Just in case you were there-”

This gained a look from Jayliah he couldn’t read. He mentally scolds himself and excuses, “I mean…to take pictures of your art– heh-”

“I appreciate that.” Jayliah then struggled to squeeze the icing for lettering practice. So, the tailor’s son stepped in and put his palm over her hands, helping her with it. This action made the girl side-glance at him. She thought: ‘ If only I could chop those hands off of you… ’. But to Mateo, she looked like his delusions .

~☻☹~

Normally, the sole factor why the artist’s shop is vivid is because of its colorful painting. Behind all those saturated strokes hides a deeper meaning. It contained his sadness. However, now that he has found a muse other than his late family, this will be the first time in years he paints out of pure joy. Why? The boisterous singing of his “adopted children” contributed to the shop’s vibrance. 

Camilo held the cake the group had made for him as the group chanted, “Wish!” After a few seconds, the man blew the candles, and applause emerged. By the corner, the photographer stood, capturing the moment.

“How does it feel turning fifty, Fernando Amorsolo??” Andres cracked up a joke, making the group stifle chuckles. “I feel ecstatic, son! Why don’t you all come closer?” Without hesitation, everyone compressed, creating a big group hug. As they pulled away, they all squealed except her . However, she–the oh-so-ever grump with zero wrinkles lightly clapped her hand in joy, unaware that her mask was broken . Among the busy crowd, Mateo was the only one who was able to imprint it in his brain and his camera.

“Didn’t know you can be happy, Jayliah.” He said, standing next to her. Taken aback, her mask was repaired, now murmuring, “What?”

“I’ve never seen you smile before. Looks great on you.” The girl wasn’t taken aback by his compliment, it’s the fact that she cannot fathom herself smiling again. Yet, here she was–caught with a little grin and she despised the guy who had witnessed it. 

“Please forget about that.” She excused herself, squeezing herself between Liliyah and Camilo. ‘ Focus, Jayliah… ’ she told to herself. 

…

As Fernan and his five plus-one children celebrated the day, everyone bid their goodbyes–the two pranksters even offered a well-deserved kiss for being a great father today. One by one, they came home, Jayliah volunteering to stay for a bit longer. 

The two dusted the floor, the man humming a happy song as he did. “Gracias for today, hija…you saved me from forgetting my birthday.” The girl hums, acknowledging him. “You’re oddly quiet, something bothering you?” 

Jayliah paused sweeping, gently putting it down as she sat on a stool, fiddling with her fingers. “I smiled earlier and I don’t know what to feel about it, Manong.” Then, he sat down next to the teen, his grin never leaving. “The only thing I can say is…let it be. You felt happy, so be it. There’s no one judging you.”

“But–”

“ What is stopping you, hija? ” For the second time, Fernan made the girl question things she never asked before. “I don’t know…”

The man pats her shoulder gently, a comforting gaze as he does so. “Get lost in your dreams already, chica. It’s past bedtime.” He advises, making her reluctantly leave his shop. By the end of the day, it was the same bell chime from the morning. Only this time, going with a phrase that the local artist murmurs, “Thank you for being my daughter today, Jayliah.” 

…

September 30, 1952

Today was a lot to take in, too many things on my plate even. First, I feel confused about my perception of men–Am I angry? Am I lonely? Or both? Second, this overly-obsessed fashionista kept pestering me, and now that Camilo jokes about Mateo’s intentions which makes sense…How can I act nice towards him now? He sways me like any other boy from my hometown would; calling me pretty as if that’s going to make me red. Never. I hate it when they immediately swoon over a flower. What if there’s a whole bee infestation hiding behind their colorful petals? Will they stop falling in love? Screw this. Now I’m being hateful towards boys again. This is bad. My trust issues affect the way I view romance. Anyway, the third thing on my plate is that…I smiled today and Mang Fernan made me reflect on it. What is making me stop smiling? I mean…I used to smile when I was younger but–Huh? Since when did I become a stoic soul? Why did I stop smiling in the first place? There must be a reason behind it .

~☻☹~

Once upon a delusional peacock, it was a new day as he searched for an individual in the sea of lively morning people. He defied his father's orders for the time being, more focused on finding that individual after having an incredible experience the night before. Mateo grinned, recalling how the girl's cheeks reddened when he saw her grinning. He assisted her with the frosting, and he could still feel the lingering sensation of her pale hands. ‘ Oh God, she likes me… ’ He thought. Keyword: thought. 

A block away, he saw the beaming boy he was looking for; Camilo. He knew how to make a move and according to him, it’s asking about preference first. “Oi, chameleon! You busy?” The greeting caught the shapeshifter’s attention. “Hi fashionista, no. Por que?” Mateo’s grin widened before he said, “I figured you and Jayliah are close-tied, and uh…I need some information about her preferences.” 

Camilo blinked his eye, realizing the hints and he bit back his laughter. ‘ Probably shoving concrete down your throat .’ He spoke in his mind but he replied to him nicely. “Ay. I’m clueless, amigo. Maybe befriend her or something…And to be her friend, you must be natural!”

For the first time, the tailor’s son was dumb. He kept being delusional so he confidently terminated their conversation. “That is all I need to know, gracias!” He walked off to god knows where. Meanwhile, the shapeshifter waited for him to disappear before he hurried, eager to gossip.

…

In a rush to report an intriguing problem, the racing footfall crunched gratifyingly on the dried leaves on the ground. “Fantasma, fantasma, fantasma– ¡Deja de caminar tan rápido!” He catches up to her before she can shut the Garcias’ main door in his face. With the fantasma turning around with an impatient look, she responds, “What.” 

“What’s up with the speed-walking, idiota? You’re giving me asthma!”

“Get to the point, Camilo.”

The boy grumbles but recollects his thoughts anyway. “Mateo asked me about your preferences earlier. I jinxed my joke! He likes you, Jayliah!” He reports, shapeshifting to her biggest nightmare. 

He wiggled his fingers to creep her out and said, “Ooooo ~ What’s the boy-phobic gonna do now~!” The robotic girl shrugged her shoulders, “Kick his ass I guess…Also, stop shapeshifting.” She says, never forgetting the rule between them as she prepares to close the door. However, Camilo, the boy he is, slid his palm into the gap too late. As expected, a loud thud echoes through the air, mixed with a painful scream .

…

The Madrigal’s miracle was used to her primo’s dramatic weeping. So, why does it seem like she wants to follow Van Gogh’s path? Especially when she now watched her two friends–opposite in many ways, fight each other in her room.

“You slipped in your hand, and that’s your fault.” 

“MY FAuLT?” The crying boy exclaimed, his voice cracking. “IT’S YOUR FAULT FOR DISMISSING ME QUICKLY! AT LEAST BE GRATEFUL I WARNED YOU ABOUT MATEO!”

“I don’t think shapeshifting and scaring me is a way to warn me, bobo .”

Camilo gasped, “OH NOW YOU INSULT ME WITH YOUR LANGUAGE? I CAN DO THAT TOO YOU CABRONA !”

Annoyed, Mirabel screamed. “Guys, stop!” And they did, watching as she heaved from stress. “Now, just eat your arepa, ‘Milo. That way, you won’t cry like a child anymore! And you, Jayliah…say sorry..” The two crossed their arms and looked away from each other, still ready to kick asses. Mirabel just sighed and left the mess. “Good luck guys! I’ll be back!”

Once they were left alone, isolated in one room, two masks conversed once more.

“You’re infuriating.” The Melpomene mask muttered. 

“Coming from you.” The Thalia mask answered.

Chapter Text

Peeking through the gap of her homely chamber, little Jayliah listened to her mother and grandmother’s conversation in the living room. Papers and a few organized pieces of money were scattered on the table. She heard words such as “gambling.” At six years old, she was aware of what it was due to her lola, Leonora. That family matriarch was an extroverted woman, especially during gambling. 

“Ma, you can’t take away my money- I have three daughters!“

“It’s your fault, Amanda! You had opportunities to make our family rich and instead, pinili mo ‘yong walang awang lalaking‘yon!” The two women argued. Little Jayliah only wished for everything to be okay. She pitied everyone in her family, most importantly her mother. What a poor widowed woman she is. And so, the girl sneaked out into the garden, spotting leaves adorned with her mother’s favorite petals–red carnations. With gentle work, she made a flower crown devoted to Amanda–the mother who deserved the world. 

One afternoon, little Jayliah knocked on a wooden door, an innocent glint in her eyes. The door creaked open, the comfort of a mother’s scent cradling her small figure. “ Ma , I made this for you.” She said, expecting to receive a loving embrace. What happened was the opposite. Amanda tightly gripped her wrist, the crown falling on the floor. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!?”, she scowled, furious eyes burning her child’s soul. 

“I-I’m sorry mother , I promise it won’t happen again-”

“PUNYETA KA! I WISH YOU WERE NEVER BORN !” 

For some reason, Jayliah no longer found comfort in her mother’s scent–instead, she memorized the terrific rhythm of her footsteps. She was filled with fear of doing something wrong. Until now, she did not know what mistake she had made, but she knew that her role was to ensure she kept her chores in check and followed every order she received. With one single wrongdoing, remorse rushes into her soul. 

…

Now that she–the sixteen-year-old Jayliah, collected her thoughts as she tapped her foot impatiently against the floor next to the shapeshifter. “I’m sorry. It was my fault for being rude.”

Out of nowhere, Camilo clapped his hand and pointed at her, “I knew you had a heart!” The boy jumped around like he won the lottery. “Would you like to have a broken arm?”. He stopped grinning and muttered, “I take my statement back.”

Again, no one said anything. Before long, the chameleon's eyes studied her face. Andres was right about her. The girl isn’t so stoic when you know her. He saw something, like regret written all over her face. So, he cleared his throat and took things seriously. “Jokes aside, it’s fine. It felt like an ant bite to be honest. I only wanted chaos.” 

“Typical you.”

“Pfft–Typical you , Jayliah. A very very apologetic fantasma.” He replies with a small grin as their eyes meet. The girl tilted her head and asked, “Have you ever cried?” She sure did see him vulnerable at times, but not to the point tears were falling out of his eyes. ”Minutes ago, I did because of my hand.” 

“Answer me properly, chameleon. I’m inquisitive.” With a shrug, he chewed on his arepa. “Obviously. Who does not? I bet you do too. Possibly smile too-” He began teasing, only to be shocked by the girl’s interruption. “I did. During Manong’s birthday.” 

The arepa almost fell off his tanned hands, steadying himself and widening his eyes, not believing her words. “Qué?? You’re not lying?” He searched for malice in her face, but none was seen. The girl sighed, playing with one of Mirabel’s unfinished yarn projects. 

“I need someone who can relate. Under that constant smile, you conceal a lot. I also hide by frowning and don’t know what stops me from laughing. Do you know what it is?” She searched for answers in the boy’s eyes. Camilo now held a serious tone. “Maybe because crying is not my suit. Y’know…because I’m the increíble shapeshifter, expected to entertain. I guess laughing is just a me-thing to do and crying is not.”

Jayliah nods her head, understanding his situation. He was accustomed to smiling because people expected him to do so. That was his reason. What was hers ? Why did she become an expressionless girl in the first place ?

“Thank you, Camilo.” With that final phrase, she left in a hurry–wanting to follow the shapeshifter’s Sherlock persona; to be Jayliah’s detective. And so, falling into the depth of her own character begins .

~☻☹~

Isabela Madrigal wandered through the botanical landscape somewhere in the small town, humming her song. Every Thursday, this has become her routine so she can explore more of her capabilities to create various plants. As she spread carnations everywhere, a startling sound interrupted her solitude. With a yelp, she accidentally made a cactus, now identifying what that sound was. A gunshot . Concerned, she tried to navigate it.

Turns out, it wasn’t only the rebel who enjoyed solitude. A minor teen held a Tommy gun–a weapon she had ‘borrowed’ from her Lola Leonora’s collection of souvenirs. A few meters away from the teen was an empty bottle atop a tree stump. She focused on the target, one eye closed. Just as she was about to pull the trigger, someone startled her.

“Jayliah? What are you doing here?” Isabela approached the girl, holding her face and examining possible injuries. As expected, the Garcia's scary eyes were filled with stars, as if a goddess were in front of her.

“I’m okay, Ate. Just playing around…I know how to shoot.” Isabela spun her around, checking for her condition more. “And where’d you get those, huh?” She shot the teen a feigned scolding eyes–mistaken as real by Jayliah. “Sorry, uh-”

“You’re too pretty for this…But, you’re way prettier now that you hold a badass influence! Mind teaching me, Jayliah?” The florist beamed in excitement, the teen taken aback by it. She handed her the gun and dictated instructions that were quite interesting .

“I usually picture someone I hate to get the bull’s eye. Normally, it’s Mateo Perez who I see.” The girl said, making Isabela chuckle, knowing what she felt without having to know the context. “In my case, that bottle would be…Mariano Guzman.” 

Bang ! A gunshot echoed in the air, along with the sound of shattering glass. The anti-Mariano jumped in victory, “Bashing boys is so fun, right?”. Jayliah’s eyes lit up and thought: ‘ Finally, someone who understands.’ Isabela examined the weapon, or rather–admired it as she asked, “What’s your deal with the tailor’s son? Got an arranged courtship because I can help with that area.”

“No, Ate. He’s just…naturally annoying. More severe than your shapeshifter cousin to be honest.” She replies. For the hundredth time, she did not know how she managed to speak so casually. Maybe it really was because of her circle of friends. “Pfft–I had the same view over Dolores’ novio way before I was arranged. My goal was to smash his nose until it turns into a purple papaya since the very beginning.”

“Thank you for the idea,” Jayliah replies, a satisfied feeling running through her veins, now realizing she’s not alone. With them alone in the colorful forest, the teen stared at the woman who she once perceived as ‘overly perfectionist’. It turns out that she abandoned that era a long time ago and is now enjoying a dangerous pastime with the ghostly girl. 

…

Speaking of boys…Just as she spent a wonderful time with the local primadonna, her little happy bubble popped in rumbles. Behind her ran the peacock, yelling her name with a small something on his jeweled hand. “Jayliah!! I have something to show you!”. The girl took a deep breath, trying to remember Liliyah’s words. With a forceful turn, she saw that stupid grin again. “What.” Mateo chuckles at her, wiggling his brows slightly and shoving a printed picture of her smiling, right at her face. Jayliah’s jaw clenched, eyes burning his soul. “You- Burn this, right now.”

“I don’t think I will, Hermosa. I could put this in a museum and let everyone see how smiling looks good on you!” The confident boy suggests, allowing the poor girl to panic. “I’m not kidding around, Mateo. You’re unfunny .” Then, that delusional laughter filled her broken eardrums again. “Si, si, Fine. However, I’ll keep this buried in my room, like a treasure.” That’s it. That was enough to make the stoic girl storm off in irritation, choosing peace over violence.

~☻☹~

“ --And to be her friend, you must be natural! ” That chameleon’s phrase is what kept him motivated to impress the girl with his nature; eyeful feathers which came naturally like his flirty trait. Playful is what he thought of himself, unaware of the fact that he had crossed the line.

“You- Burn this, right now.”, “I’m not kidding around, Mateo. You’re unfunny .” Mateo couldn’t help but feel excited as he observed the muse’s ‘flustered’ expression. Even the way Jayliah stomped her feet away from him, he found that endearing. Unbeknownst to him, delusional is what he really is . And it looks like he was not alone…

…

The day before, he asked everyone close to the girl for a piece of advice. This includes the boy-magnet, Andres. The two boys sat on a bench, cooling off under the shade of a tree. “If you like someone, what do you do, amigo?” Mateo asked the tall Garcia. “Personally, I would show hints using different techniques like…complimenting.”

“Yeah? Care to give an example?” 

Andres cleared his throat, sitting up straight and adjusting his magsasaka scarf. Courage enlightened him to say: “Oh sinta, your emerald eyes shine the best in the crowd, like a star burning in the dark!” Mateo chuckles at the boy’s remark and tries to take his advice, “Let me try. You answer, okay?”

“Are you a skyscraper?”

“Why?” The tall Garcia tried his best not to jump out of the bench, anticipated by the upcoming statement of his beloved crush.
“Because even from down here, I can’t take my eyes off you.” 

Frozen, he was as soon as the fashionista told him that. Andres’ thoughts ran wild, clogging his mind: ‘ Was he referring to me?’ ‘I THANK WHOEVER BLESSED ME WITH SUCH A HOT HEIGHT! ’ Too distracted, he didn’t notice the jeweled hand waving.

“Earth to Andres..! Hello?? I was asking if I did great.”

He shook his head, scratching the back of his neck as if that was gonna help reduce the heat in his face. “Uhm..right. Yeah. Definitely works! Proven and tested!”

Mateo offered his hand for a high-five, a victorious smile blinding the nervous boy’s line of sight. With hesitation, he smacked his palm with his…briefly. No way in hell he’s gonna let him know about his sweaty palms! And of course, his messed up mind as well. Delusional , he was for misinterpreting the cheesy pick-up line.  

~☻☹~

After a long day of hell, a shapeshifter wrote in his journal–exhausted not only due to chores but also his very own two friends. 

November 2, 1952
There are two types of Garcias in terms of romance, mi amigos! One: A hopeless romantic and two: An aromantic grenade ready to explode anytime. Why did I conclude with this? Well, my friend; you should pity me because these two Garcias kept ranting about a certain fashionista! Andres gets easily flustered over him and he is for sure the dumbest person alive…Meanwhile, Jayliah looks like she’s gonna pierde su mierda when the name Mateo leaves her mouth! What am I to them?? Their emotional punchball?!? Dios Mio , I am stressed! 

…

Oh, just where would all this lead to?

Chapter Text

Poor chameleon squeezed between two different personalities…To his left, Andres sighed as if watching his non-existent lover in a field of his favorite flowers. To his right, Jayliah resembled a ticking bomb. “Aye, ‘Milo…He’s so majestic!” The tall Garcia cooed, which bubbled up protests. “No, Camilo…You have to believe me. He’s the most annoying person alive.” The stressed boy had his eye twitching. “You know what’s more annoying?” The two Garcias waited for his response. “Both of you and your ideas tontas about Mateo!” Another collection of sighs: One lovesick, one angry, and one annoyed.

 “Ugh! ‘Milo, your breath smells like rotten arepas!” Andres complained, forcing the shapeshifter to tiptoe and threaten his amigo. “Stop it already, you hopeless romantic!” Then, the girl comments, “Whatever, shortie.” With a gasp, Camilo shifted into an array of his friends–ending with Jayliah’s form. First off, he was shocked that this enigma finally teased him. Second, he was offended, feigning a stab in his heart. He shook his head, returning to his original form. “You too fantasma . You think you’re so cool, eh!? Hah!, NO porque you’re cold like your creepy mansion!”

That made Jayliah pause. “You’re right. Sorry, I need to discover something.” She walked away, as expected. The chameleon facepalmed, glancing to his left, seeing Andres holding back his laughter. “Well, bye-bye too, shortie. I have to see my future husband.” He pats his yellow ruana and also leaves the scene, leaving him in disbelief. He thought: ‘Garcias are so strange! ’

~☻☹~

There’s one thing Jayliah loved to do other than painting: dive into someone’s depth of character. And for sixteen years, she never considered herself so… why not start today ? Despite the past three months of living here in Encanto, she had no motivation to organize her unboxed stuff. However, one goal was set in her mind now. ‘ You’re cold like your creepy mansion! ’ 

“Perhaps he was right…” She murmured as she now held old notebooks and photographs. A person’s personality depends on the home they grew up in . With every flip of the crispy paper of her childhood, memories rushed through her mind. Some writings were from her past classes, some funny stories with Marie. But, what caught her eye was the messy handwriting with the date ‘ May 28, 1946 ’ written on the side. She sat on the wooden floor, beginning to read a letter from the past. 

‘It’s my 10th birthday today! I can’t believe I survived a decade on Earth…Well, thanks to Marie I had a will to live. She gifted me pastries, and she baked them all for me! I spent the majority of my day playing luksong tinik with Marie and Ivan too. Never doing it again! My weak lungs can’t handle it…Anyway, I didn’t go home that much because celebrating my birthday isn’t really an event. I wish it was though, I just don’t understand why Ate Lili gets to celebrate hers…Maybe because she’s smart and pretty! And I’m just a quiet girl…But that doesn’t matter. Thanks, Papa Jesus for giving me friends!’

Jayliah scoffed to herself. “What a jealous kid..and an innocent one. Poor girl doesn’t know Ivan well enough.” She flips again, finding some pages boring. Most of them were bad doodles and random written prayers. Then, confusion hit her once a book-worthy of pages was torn off . “What kind of child was I to do this?” She mutters and exhales, looking around her haven. Today was a great day to reminisce and clean her room as a distraction from Mateo.

…

If the girl distances away from the peacock, the boy moves joyously towards the tailor’s shop. He greets his ‘future father-in-law’ to find his crush. “Good afternoon Mang Perez! Do you know where your son is?” The man puts down the needle and drinks his caffeine, “No, Garcia. But, he’s probably up wanderin’ the woods near the river. He loves to capture yellow mariposa over there.” Andres’ smile reached his ears after hearing that, sending a sign of gratitude towards the senior.

 “Salamat, you deserve praise for your works!” He prepared to trek but halted once Señor Perez ordered him a favor. “Care to give this to him, chico? Tell him it’s from his mama.” The tall Garcia saluted, leaving the shop with a happy face.

The soft grass tickled his ankle, the birds chirping as his eyes squint every time sun beams seep through the cracks of the leaves. “Mateooooo! Where are you??” He calls, a wild smirk appearing as he whispers, “ Mahal ?” Giggles burst out, which turned into a shriek. Click! Lenses were pointed at his startled face.

 “Congratulations, amigo. You now have a candid photo!” He showed Andres the picture of his surprised expression. The lovesick man chuckles and shoves it away, focusing on the peacock’s eyes. “Your papa asked me to give you this letter. It’s from your mama, he said.” Mateo grabs the fragile paper, sits on a rock, and opens it. A smile creeps off his cheeks, and lovesick Andres wishes to memorize that view. 

He cleared his throat, sitting next to him, and asked, “So…where’s your mom at?”. The cameraman pockets the paper carefully and sits up straight, preparing to ramble. “She worked in the city a year ago after the mountain split in half. Now, I receive weekly letters about her stories…Really an interesting world out there. It sometimes makes me want to run away and admire things there.” 

“Wow, so this town’s really that isolated, huh?”, the tall Garcia responds. “Mhm…what’s it like traveling places, Andres? I heard the exquisite Garcias had gone in many places.” The boy sighed, feeling a familiar jet-lag-like fill in his stomach. “Makes you dizzy. But on the brighter side, I get to take souvenirs!” The peacock’s eyes twinkled in amusement, “What kind of souvenirs?” 

“Oh, you should probably see it yourself. Come over to my spooky mansion, Mateo !” 

~☻☹~

The detective on duty avoided possible collision with the townspeople, gaze focused on an ancient journal. No, this wasn’t the cheeky chameleon who solves the enigma’s depth; it was the enigma herself, whose brain is filled with questions. Now she understood why Camilo seemed so persistent about getting to know her. There was indeed a lot of untangling to do . Her first solution was to ask someone she trusted, someone of a wizard’s age and experience.

The familiar tune of the bell echoes, the shop owner cheerful of his daily visitor, or rather–his figurative daughter . “What brings you here today, Jayliah?”

The teen then placed the ancient journal on the wooden counter, turning the pages until the end. “Mang Fernan, what could it mean if a child dared to rip off a novel-length paper?” She asked eagerly, her pale fingers running through the damaged corner of the paper.

“ A child is sensitive to frustration . There is a chance they tore half of this while crying and hid that other half in a place only an innocent mind knows.” The man replies, looking at the girl’s obvious hint of frustration in her stoic face. ‘ Damn it, Jayliah…stop being a child. ’ She thought.

As if her thoughts were heard, the local artist asked, “Are you that child, hija?” Her eyes blinked away the brimming tears. She had no idea why she felt like that. “The child who damaged this notebook? Yes, Manong. Though, I’m certainly not a frustrated child anymore.” Fernan chuckles at her denial. “Chica, I have a feeling you were offended by me…Which could only have one meaning. You’re overwhelmed, aren’t you?” 

The girl tapped her knuckles on the counter repeatedly, trying to deny what he said, but he was right. “Calm down. Here, have some cocada…” He placed a piece of the Colombian dessert on her panicking hand. Without hesitation, the girl takes a bite. The man let the teen collect her thoughts before speaking. “When you first visited my shop, I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re a different kind of young teen. That unsmiling face, that dedication to make those dear to you happy…But, do you ever wonder why you developed into who you are today?”

Jayliah swallowed the last bits of the dessert, now looking up to Mang Fernan, as if he was worthy to be a role model of hers; a father . “That’s the reason why I stumbled upon this journal, Manong. I want to know more about myself.” He examined the girl’s expression once more. She had her straight face on, but her head bowed down–ashamed, guilty, vulnerable. Somewhat similar to a child getting scolded. He hums, “Perhaps you spent little time during your childhood.”

“Po? What do you mean?” That captured her interest, trying to recall memories from the past. Just blurry visions of sand, hair pins, and doodles. Why can’t she remember anything?  

Fernan’s brows furrowed, now figuring out this strange teen in front of him. No, he sees her as a child waiting to be cared for . “It means you grew up too early, Jayliah. Something must have happened in the past. A person tends to let go of bad memories, hence, having no remembrance of your childhood.”

Jayliah froze, her heart dropping as well as a single tear. The local artist was alerted, immediately going off his counter, now standing next to the rarely-fragile girl. His slightly wrinkled arms wrapped around the girl, only making her cry more and she did not know why. Another mystery for her; why was her heart ten times heavier after an embrace ? Why was she sobbing so silently ? These questions overwhelmed the teen more, her thin arms now clinging around the local artist. ‘ I really am a frustrated child… ’ She thought.

 “Shhh, hija…It’s okay. Let me return your kindness…” Ah, the price of her dedication… If it weren’t for her, Mang Fernan would have already given up his art. The man thought this not-so-stoic shell deserved to be cared for too, not as a teenager but as a child .

…

“Take care of yourself, Jayliah. Untangle threads slowly, okay?” Fernan says, shoving a basket of cocadas and some of his mighty acrylic paint into her arms. The girl nods, trying to wash away the obvious remnants of her emotional breakdown. Then, he added another item to her basket. A plush toy in the shape of a shark. “Take it. I haven’t gotten the chance to give it to my daughter. That fire’s a nuisance!”

 With a hesitant walk, she pushed the door open, turning around to look back at the local artist. “Thank you, Manong.”

She planned on hiking up that grassy hill again to seek comfort and gather her thoughts. So, she did. As usual, she avoided a possible collision but failed once a kid with dark skin, curly hair, and soft eyes tugged on her skirt. “Excuse me miss?” 

‘ Ah, what a bad timing… ’ The girl thought. She knows for herself she was fond of children before the talk with Fernan. But now that the local artist has given her a new eye? Hurts as hell. She crouched down at the boy’s height. “Yes?”

The boy had her brows scrunched in worry as he looked at a tree. “Baby toucan is afraid to fly from that tree, miss…Do you think you can reach for him?” Jayliah’s eyes then spotted a bird, shaking in fear. Another one of her soft spots is animals– though she won’t admit it. She nods and pats the boy’s head, now approaching the tree. She offered an arm towards the bird, standing on her tiptoes. “Come on…” She murmurs. The boy beside her said, “It’s okay, Ernie! She won’t hurt you!” As if on cue, claws hopped on Jayliah’s arm. With that, she carefully sets down the baby toucan on the boy’s arm–who’s now enthusiastic.

“Thank you so much, tall lady!” He hugged the girl’s knees. There was a heavy squeeze in her chest yet again. What’s up with the hugs ? She awkwardly ruffled the boy’s head. “What’s your name, kid?”

“ Antonio! ”

~☻☹~

Wind caressed her cheek, as well as brushed her hair. Her eyes were closed, letting nature envelop her in a secure embrace. Peace is what she needs today, but a certain prankster decides to ruin it again. She felt grass tickle her nose, making her find for the disturbance. Next to her stood a familiar glimpse of yellow, a sheepish smile as his tanned hand was busy seasoning her hair with grass. “Good afternoon?”

Jayliah scoffed, ruffling her hair to remove the grass. “Way to disturb a moment of peace again, chameleon. What are you doing here?” The boy took a seat next to her, that same sly smile on his face. “What do you mean, fantasma? This place had become my source of peace too. You’re the disturbance here.”

“Let me remind you who brought you in here, or rather– involuntarily made this place known to you. It’s me, you’re the disturbance.” She said, earning a huff from Camilo. “You’ve gotten feisty these days…What even is wrong with your eyes?”

The girl immediately shields her eyes. “Mang Fernan gave me cocadas. I didn’t know I was allergic to them.” She gulped and thought: ‘ What a nice lie…thank god Camilo is dumb.. ’ As if her theories were right, the boy laughed out loud. “Dios Mio! I need to talk to Senor about that!”

She sighed. “You didn’t answer my question, by the way. What are you doing here?” Her hand plucked a dandelion, now playing with it. “Sunday means a long day to me, Jayliah. I need to take a breather. Plus, mi hermano won’t stop talking about a tall lady helping out his little toucan.”

Jayliah pursed her lips at that. “Oh…It must be a coincidence then. A boy named Antonio asked for my help earlier…” That made his neck bend, surprise in his face. “You’re the tall lady! I can’t imagine you helping kids!”

“I told you already. I don’t murder kids. I only murder Mateo Perez.” She said, the boy groaning in annoyance. “Drop it already. He’s a nice gal.” Jayliah partly agrees. She thought Mateo had an interesting view of the world. “If only he would stop chasing after me, he’d be my friend.”

Camilo snickers, sliding his hands on the cocada-filled basket on Jayliah’s lap. “Don’t eat them all. Save some for Niko.” Niko, Niko, Niko …That name was repeated in his head, trying to remember who it was. “Oh! Your sobrino who never puts on a smile like you. Sheesh, Milagrosa! What a softie..”

“Don’t. Start. With. That.” She glared at him, who now raised his arms in surrender. “Cálmate, it was a joke. Though, it’s funny.” Her eyes rolled at his response, now staring in the distance where the town looked like an ant’s town.

“I can’t believe I was there earlier.” She said, watching people pass by down the cobbled street. “¿Lo siento? You’re sending me confusion over here, amiga,” He says.

 “I was just there strolling with a straight face, like a tiny person in a huge universe.” Camilo was utterly confused by her thoughts but played along. “I was at Mariano’s earlier…” He pokes his index finger, his eyes checking if the girl beside him is following his movement. “--Rightttt..there!” There they saw a doll-house perspective of the two-story abode of the big dumb hunk. The boy continues speaking, “It’s crazy to think mi hermana’s novio was the man I used to mock a lot with his…” He shapeshifts into Mariano, “ Cara hermosa.. ”

“Can you not? I thought we had a deal not to shapeshift around me.” Jayliah grumbles, unamused by his antics. The boy wheezed, turning back to his original form; curly locks, golden skin with stars sprinkled on his face, and that little tiny gap between his teeth. “Don’t worry, it’s for fun. For some reason, I feel no amnesia of what I look like when I’m with you.”

Too lethargic to interpret the message, the girl was unaware of its possible meaning. The boy was also too sluggish to interpret his own message. She just shrugged her shoulders and watched the small town from the hill again. The boy decides to shut up too, now finding comfort in silence. Then, their eyes sparkled in unison when they spotted a familiar face. “I never realized that my prima Mirabel could be smaller than before, but now that I’m a god on this hill, I do.”

“She’s got an interesting backstory at least.” The girl defended, making the shapeshifter agree. “For a once excluded girl who saved our miracle, si. You’re right.” Then, it was quiet again and none seemingly felt uncomfortable. After a while, a thought popped into her mind again.

“Do I have a backstory?” She voices out. “Jayliah, please. Andres claims that I only touched the surface of what you had —a father, a Gabriel, a Joaquin, and a Marie-” Then he came to a realization. “That towering boy-magnet bashed you for that reason! In reality, he was attempting to turn away everyone who wanted to befriend you by accusing you of being immoral!" 

She tilts her head, “Why?” The boy, feeling proud of discovering something so hidden, grinned. “Because he was afraid it’ll happen to you again. You know, a new set of friends means another experience. Pero, I promise you, I’m not like those ogres. Mirabel too, is not a bad omen. You see, we’re real pals.” He almost pats her back but thankfully remembers he’d get punched if he did.

“Oh.” Again, surprised by everything she was. “I guess I just have no memories of my past.” She says. “Yep. Everyone has their story but yours is the most difficult to unfold, Milagrosa. So, yeah. You’re like Mirabel with an interesting story.”

She hums. “ You’re one to talk .” For some reason, the shapeshifter was speechless and his stomach felt worse than diarrhea. Thankfully, Jayliah speaks again. “Can you bear my house's strange atmosphere again? I need you to bring a gift for Mirabel. ”

~☻☹~

He waited patiently by her door, or rather, he was busy trying not to peek, especially since her door was wide open, displaying her bedroom–a reflection of her mind. It was as if she was not hiding anymore and instead screaming ‘comfort’ and ‘trust’ with her amigo. Camilo spotted her familiar guitar, which he had only once seen her play. Her wall was covered in sketches, and he was surprised to see a shelf with literature and ballet shoes. His hazel-green eyes then landed on the owner.

The girl was tidying up the final stitches of her crochet work; a potted flower with a butterfly on its yarned leaf. With a satisfying hum, she hands him the work. “Tell Mirabel this is a token for teaching me sewing.” The boy only nods, more focused on the ballet shoes. “You dance?” He asks.

“A long, long time ago, " the scary Garcia replies, closing her room and going downstairs. The boy follows, almost bumping into her when she halts her steps. Her whole body turns to a specific figure with an angering aura. He follows her gaze and spots Andres and Mateo by the corridor. 

“--And this is a Japanese grenade remains! What a crazy grandma to keep things from a country that abused our country, historically.” The tall Garcia said, showing his beloved peacock around who laughed at his tour guide’s joke. Speaking of them…that stupid boy-magnet acknowledged the presence of the two. Of course, the peacock’s lips curled into a smile, bringing his hand up to greet them, especially the fantasma.

“Hi Camilo, Hi Jayliah!” Mateo greeted her, chuckling as he saw her eyes try to look anywhere but him. He thought it was cute. Meanwhile, the two pranksters, Camilo and Andres, bit back their teasing smiles, seeing how Jayliah was trying not to explode.

“Well, well! Why don’t you and Camilo get outta our house before our Lola invites y-”

“Oh, what is this fantastic friendship? Come, come! Dinner is free!” Indeed, the cheerful crazy grandma who keeps Japanese bombs invited them.

…

As the four of them made their way towards the dining table with Jayliah and Camilo on the lead, the two boys behind them talked in whispering voices. “You’re right, Andres…they do act like siblings..” Mateo whispers, watching the two teens in front communicate with just eyes, as if bickering silently. Well, that’s his perspective. In reality, Jayliah was saying: ‘ Get him out of here, please. ’ 

And Andres, the stupid boy he is, agreed with his crush. “I know, surprised they don’t pull each other’s hair yet.” The fashionista grins in joy. This means he could have a chance with her, he thought. And he is shameless to show what he felt .

True to his words, he now enjoys a variety of Filipino food at the Garcias' powerful table. Andres was sitting next to him, staring at him. However, Mateo was focusing on Jayliah the entire time, unconcerned by Camilo, who eats his food beside her as though tomorrow didn't exist.

The matriarch clinked her glass with a fork, similar to Abuela Alma. This made Jayliah shake her head in mild annoyance. “Today, our teens bought home new friends and that includes the family’s muse ! So, congratulations hija.” The table chuckled at Leonora’s words except those who understood: Camilo, Andres, and Liliyah. Jayliah’s twinflower placed extra putos on her plate, offering a silent message: ‘ Just don’t mind them, Milagrosa .’ 

“Oonga, Jay’. Akala ko you’re incapable of gaining friends again.” The oldest among Amanda’s daughters, Carmel spoke, feeding her son Niko on her lap. This made Jayliah glare at her, masking her ‘offended’ feelings. Meanwhile, Camilo observed the enigma’s furious hold on her spoon. 

“And they’re boys . That’s a lot of improvement, ‘nak.” Amanda smiled at her daughter who had her knees panicking. “Finally letting in suitors, hm?” She added. With the woman’s words, Camilo shared eye contact with Liliyah who was sitting on Jayliah’s left. And the older sister understood the indication. Her hands found themselves placed on her little sister’s knee, in an attempt to calm her down.

The shapeshifter felt everyone’s gaze on him as if the Garcias were telling him he was that suitor. “Ah, no no…She’s my amiga.” The matriarch, Leonora sighed in disappointment and traveled her expectations to the other boy instead. The tailor’s son. “How about you, hijo?”

He was shameless to show what he felt . 

“ I would love to be her suitor, Señora. ” The family cheered, except those who understood . Andres’ brows were now relaxed in a sad acceptance, Liliyah’s offer of her hand failed, and Camilo flinched when his amiga scraped the wooden floor with her chair, creating light scratches on the surface. “Jayliah-”

Too late, she walked away from the table, leaving a bent spoon on her unfinished meal.

Chapter Text

—♪♫ Cowboy Malfoy - How I’d Kill ♫♪

One night in summer last year, a son listened to his mother’s advice before she left town for a long-term job. The woman cradled his face, “Remember, Mateo…you shouldn't let the fact that your Papa and I won't get along stop you from falling in love, okay? Once I return, I'd better see your true love beside you.”

Mateo chuckles, “No promises, mama.” He reached out to embrace his mother one last time. She sighed, gently running her fingers through his curly locks. “Dios Mio…I don’t want to leave you with your father.”

The boy sighed, “I know, but we don’t have a choice...” With a smile, his mother pulled away, giving an encouraging pat on his shoulders. “Talk back when he yells at you. I promise he’ll be scared.”

“Noted.” Cold wind gushed into their home as she pushed the door open, the young boy giving one last wave of goodbye. He stood there for a while, watching her mother’s figure grow little by little, like a candle of warmth losing its fire.

…

It was only yesterday when he volunteered to be someone’s suitor. Quickly enough, he was scheduled on a ‘date’ with the ghostly Garcia today. He was supposed to be happy, but how come he sighed for the tenth time already? He felt guilty about what he had done. He remembered Jayliah’s look the moment he told that out loud, in front of her family. It was unquestionable why Andres called him crazy after dinner. The boy took out a pen and paper, writing a letter for his mother, highlighting the words: “I thought she was my true love. I failed you, Mama.”

He pulled out his camera and looked through the pictures, recalling how his past self memorized the girl’s appearance, so enthralled by her beauty. Even more awestruck when he captured her smiling during the local artist’s birthday. But then, he remembered her frustrated expression when she saw that photo. Now, Mateo asked himself how idiotic he was for mistaking that look as ‘flustered’. His face scrunched in embarrassment and shame, and he did not hesitate to delete all the photos he had taken of her.

“Did I even like you that way?” He spoke to himself. Did he find her pretty? Absolutely yes! Then, he realized he didn’t have a list of reasons for liking her. He didn’t want to hold her, he didn’t like imagining her as his future wife. “Foolish ass…”

All he knew was her name and what she looked like. Unbeknownst to him, it wasn’t only he who had a fear of his parent’s gaze. Such a wasted opportunity for a friendship between two children who both grew up similarly in an unloving environment…

~☻☹~

Once upon a time, a little girl experienced her daily routine; locked up in her room, finding small details entertaining to distract her from hunger. She was an odd girl, they said, and she agreed. Why was she still throwing tantrums at the age of seven? She never found out why, despite having to write her thoughts down in her journal. With a screech, her pencil was split in half before she buried her head on her knees, knocking and knocking her head as though to shut up the ear-splitting voices. Then, someone unlocked the door. Her twinflower stepped in, holding a hairpin .

“Milagrosa…” Younger Liliyah approached the frustrated child whose nose was clogged due to her tears. A pair of comforting palms did their magic, slowly calming down the girl. “ You should control your emotions, Jay ’ ...Crying won’t help you out of your misery.”

“I-I’m trying- I don’t know how to stop, Ate!” Her tiny voice whispered, afraid Amanda would hear her. “I’m sorry I can’t handle myself,” little Jayliah apologized. Poor her, how could an innocent mind regulate what she feels? Somehow, she managed. As she grew, she taught herself to be tough, finding it pathetic, or rather–fearful to show struggle.

Now that she is sixteen years old, it feels strange to experience intense emotions again. It was only days ago when she cried in the arms of the local artist, and it was yesterday when that courtship incident happened. Ashamed she was for snapping at the dining table like that. She cracked her knuckles as she phased around her room, freezing in horror once her name echoed downstairs. “Jayliah! Be properly dressed by 7 PM!” the Garcia’s matriarch ordered.

Dark irises scanned the height from her oak window to the ground. She needed to escape and talk to someone badly. She sighs, “I can do this…” With a hesitant movement, she sneaked out of her window, thankful that the house’s exterior architecture had something to grab on to. However, she landed clumsily, the joints of her elbows bruised. She did not care, all she needed was to reach Mirabel; a friend who didn’t witness her vulnerability that dinner.

She dove into the woods, avoiding the busy crowd of Encanto. As she strolled, on her right was that cliff again–flashes of her dream depicted in her canvas, revealing itself in the girl’s mind. She had dreamed about ghosts and was an easy target for paranormal stuff, but never did she feel frightened. Ghosts didn’t scare her; what was the difference with this mossy cliff? She shook her head, more determined to let out her bottled emotions than to understand the mysterious place.

…

Mirabel pulled Jayliah up on her feet, patting her shoulders to dust away dirt. The girl with glasses shut her windows and made sure the door was locked. “You're safe now, Milagrosa. Don’t worry about Dolores, she’s asleep.” The enigma sighed in relief, now plopping down on Mirabel’s bed. The owner soon copied. Two girls, one dealing with a huge issue, and one a listener. “It’s over for me now, isn’t it?” Jayliah mutters to Mirabel. “You can always turn down their offer–” She silenced the Madrigal’s suggestion, and replied: “Too late. Mateo’s going to knock at my door soon, looking like a vegetable market with the bouquet. I have no choice but to talk to that ogre.” 

Mirabel looked at her with pity, accepting the reality of her dear friend. But it was impossible for her to run out of solutions. “If you can’t turn down your familia’s deal, you can easily tell the truth to Mateo. Tell him you’re uncomfortable with him and his courting attempts.”

Jayliah’s eyes flickered with hope, but only quickly as she remembered her older sister’s words: “ And I believe that starts with being nice to the boys you encounter, Jay ”. She shook her head, “No, no…I’m leaving behind my title of the misandrist. I want to be nice to boys, for once.” The girl with glasses deadpanned her. “Jayliah, there’s a difference between speaking for your rights and hating on men.”

“Still.” She stubbornly replies, gaining a sigh from Mirabel. “I’m telling you, amiga. It’s the only way…”

…

On the other side, a nosy chameleon was listening, his ear pressed on her prima’s magical door. In his defense, he just wanted to ensure the enigma of his detective case was all right. It was his first time seeing the stoic so mad. Stunned, he yelped once Mirabel’s door had swung open, revealing the two girls. Jayliah couldn’t even look him in the eye .

“Oh–Ola! I was definitely not listening!” 

“Ha-ha-ha, funny excuse Camilo.” The Madrigal’s miracle turned her attention to her fellow miracle. “Don’t mind him. Let’s focus on healing your elbows.” The two made their way downstairs, the shapeshifter watching in concern. Conflict was all he felt when he tried to make a decision on whether to approach or not. He remembered Jayliah’s words a long time ago: “ You don’t have to change personalities for me ”. He huffed and murmured, “al a mierda… ” If being worried sick was a part of him, then so be it.

With nervous stomps, he spots the scary Garcia watching her wound heal as she ate an arepa. “Hey, how’s Tia’s food?” He smiles awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Good.”

“How are you ?” He asks. “Pretend you didn’t see me that night, Camilo. I know I messed up.” Confused, he stands next to her. “What’s wrong with you–Dios, that sounded bad, but you know what I mean!”

Then, they felt the familiar, unbearable silence again. “I’m ashamed of walking away with anger in front of my friends, whom I cherish a lot. I worked hard not to be an immoral girl like my family painted me to be. I don’t want you to see me that way, to see me differently, especially when I've finally made a genuine friend.” 

He listened to her mind, recalling how one of her sisters, Carmel, had warned him about befriending this enigma. At that moment, he realized that understanding her home was the first step in solving his case. How was she considered immoral to her family? Pushing his thoughts away for now, he focused on the girl.

“You know, I always thought you were mean because of your unmoving face. You used to scare me, but when you sent me that apology letter…I never perceived you as the big ol’ evil witch. So, no te preocupes, you will forever be a nice wizard.” 

Jayliah scoffed. “Salamat. That helped, actually.” Camilo saluted, displaying the shine on his teeth. “You could have said yes when my Lola asked if you were my suitor.” Her words sent confusion to the poor boy’s stomach. He felt a tickling stomach ache again. “Que?” He asked her, but at the same time asked himself: ‘ What is happening? ’

“It was just an expression of my exaggerated frustration. I’d do anything to get rid of Mateo, even if it means faking courtship with someone else.” Beads of sweat hid in his skin, laughing at the girl’s response. “Just reject him, idiota.”

“How?”

“...”
“Give him a deserving kick in the culo. Wake him out of his dream!”

“I like that idea, chameleon.”

From the corner of the kitchen, the flower girl was listening the whole time. Seconds later, she unhid herself. “Camilo, Tia Pepa’s looking for you.” A slight pout formed on his face before he turned to Jayliah. “Adios, fantasma.”

The two boy-phobic watched him leave, Isabela chuckling, “You let him call you a ghost?”. “Ghost?”
“Fantasma means ghost, Jayliah.”
“But he told me it means fantastic?”

“Ay, you know him..he’s a prankster.” Isabela watched ‘sadness’ loom over the teen’s face and immediately apologized. “But I’m sure he didn’t prank you when he said you’re a good wizard. And I agree with him, you’re one of the coolest girls, and I think he still sees you as fantastic.”

If only Jayliah were capable of smiling, she would. “Are you here to talk to me, Ate?”

“Si. Heard there’s a courtship going on. I have the perfect advice to smash a man’s nose!”

~☻☹~

‘ Tip 1: Be nice as you reject .’

The moment the clock hit seven at night, the peacock arrived at the Garcias’ door, all dressed nicely with a bouquet of blue hyacinths in his arms. True to Isabela’s words, Jayliah accepted the bouquet and displayed a nice facade for her Lola and mother. She had her hand uncomfortably hooked around Mateo’s arm. The boy, who pondered a lot prior to this, now had a hint of something else in his eyes. So, when the door closed, he let the girl let go of his arm–even let her walk away with no words, or so he thought.

“Are you coming or what?” She said, the same stoic face that he had ‘fallen’ for on display. “Oh uh..Yeah.” He jogged next to her, sharing a silence as their feet crushed dried leaves. With gathered courage, he spoke.

“Look, blue hyacinths mean ‘sorry’. I’m sorry for everything, Jayliah. I was too blind to see your discomfort.” Surprised, Jayliah halts her step. She swore she considered Isabela’s last resort. “Took you a long time to notice.” She said, gaining an apologetic sigh from the fashionista.

“Yeah, I know…I just- You’re beautiful, okay? If I had that face, I would look at the mirror every second. But, I believe it’s merely that reason. I thought if I courted you, I would be happy. Instead, I realized…I don’t like you that way. I was only mesmerized by you, not in love or anything. It was partly Andres’ fault-”

“Andres?”
“Si, he kept telling me you and Camilo had nothing going on, which encouraged me to bug you further-”

“You think I like that rat? I don’t like anyone.” She clarified, less frustrated now.
“It doesn’t matter…I’m just asking for forgiveness. You would be a great friend, Jayliah.”

‘ Last resort: Violate him !’

She now stared at his sincere expression. “Can I at least punch your nose?”

“Wha-” 

Too late, he held his poor nose. However, when he opened his eyes, he saw a surprised Jayliah who was staring at…Andres?

“Serves you right, puto! You’re so dumb for believing my words!” The tall Garcia proudly exclaimed. “Where did you come from??” Mateo complains, still recovering from the impact. “Heaven, obviously.”

Andres turned to his cousin, patted her shoulders, and said, “Now, ‘insan, may I steal the spotlight?” For some reason, she understood what he meant. Oh, she would willingly make him Mateo’s spotlight instead of her. “Gladly, Andres.” The boy grinned widely before grabbing the peacock’s arm and stealing him away. With one last complaint, Mateo shouted, “You Garcias are so weird! But thank you anyway, Jayliah!”

Jayliah was left with a confused satisfaction, now holding the bouquet with care. Where the hell was she supposed to go? The “courtship” was scheduled to end by nine, still two hours away. With a purposeful trek, she followed the path towards the Casita.

~☻☹~

Surely, the town’s chismosa and primadonna are onto something. The poor chameleon, lacking access to move, is now tied with vines. “What’s happening?? Let go of me, Isa!” The woman chuckled with a sinister smirk. “Answer our questions honestly first.” Camilo rolled his eyes. “Dolores, free your handsome hermano, please?”

That pleading was ignored, and instead receiving a confusing question was received. “Mi hermano, do you like Jayliah?” His eyes almost popped out. “QUE??? YOU THINK I LIKE THAT RAT?”

Dolores snickers, “Hm! Same words as her, I see.” That made Isabela gasp. “ ‘Milo, I saw the way you talked to her in the kitchen.” “So? She’s mi amiga, you guys- And, why interrogate me today when I already flirted with ninety-nine percent of Encanto’s girls befor-OW!” A flower punched his nose.

“That’s the thing! Dolores never heard you talk to her like that!” Isabela points.
“Because she’ll kill me if I do try! I might drown in a pool of acrylic paint-”
“How cute, primo…pouring one of her traits in your sentences!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN??”

The bow-head winced, alerting the two bickering Madrigals. However, the door was already swung open, revealing Antonio holding the topic’s hand. “Uh..tall lady was looking for mi hermano..” The Madrigal women shared a happy glance.

“Sure, Toni..here he is..” They let go of Camilo, shoving him towards the door too forcefully. How silly he was for thinking the enigma would catch his fall. But no, she swayed out of the way, leaving him to eat the dirt on the floor. Antonio giggled, “That’s a cool move, miss!”

The shapeshifter groaned, standing up. “You’re mean, Toni-” He said, before glaring at Jayliah, who had a confused stoic face, if that makes any sense. “Why were you tied like that?” She asks. “ You don’t need to know . Also- Stop stealing Antonio from me!” He points an accusatory finger at her before placing his hermano on his shoulders.

She scoffed. “I’m not. I think he just likes me more than you.” “Si!” The little boy agreed, making Camilo pause. “I’ve been with him since birth. Stop talking already, fantasma. Aren’t you supposed to be wrestling with Mateo right now??”

Jayliah held back her scoff at ‘fantasma’, aware of what it means now. So, she decides to take revenge. “Andres stole him from me, and Mateo apologized, saying that it was only physical attraction he felt, engkanto. ”

“ Encanto , huh? Are you calling me magical?”

“Yes.” What a great liar she was. It actually meant those mythical creatures roaming at midnight in her culture. With a smirk, the shapeshifter was unaware of his dumbness and replied, “Cool nickname, fantasma .”

Antonio glanced at the two, his eyes forming stars. “Hermano, can you and tall lady hang out with me before I sleep?”

“Sure.” 

Chapter Text

Time ticks as fast as a child turns to an adult. Perhaps that could be why the fantasma had a soft spot for children like Antonio, who had asked her to tuck him in. She allowed his small hand to grasp hers, wishing for him to never grow up similarly to her. “Goodnight, Jayliah. I’ll make sure my toucan Ernie keeps you safe…” 

Once again, if only she could smile, she would. “Okay. Goodnight, too, Antonio.” Jayliah let go of his palm, watching as he slowly dozed off. She turns around, seeing the chameleon’s mouth slightly open. Ignoring him, she exits Antonio’s room, unbothered by his presence following her as usual. The door shuts, a cue for the shapeshifter to speak.

“I just witnessed real magic in my sixteen years of living!” He exaggerates, stars still in his eyes. “You’re being dramatic.” She replies, ready to descend the stairs. “Wait! Have Tia’s food for making mi hermano happy!” Camilo unconsciously grabbed her wrist gently and led her to the kitchen. And the whole walk to the kitchen, Jayliah was staring at him in surprise and confusion, confused about why she didn’t react violently.

He released his hold, busy stuffing the same woven basket she had used to hand him those embarrassing putos months ago with cocadas . “Here ya go, Jayliah!” He shoves it into her arms, observing as she doesn’t hesitate to munch on one. He, too, was now struck with confusion and said, “I thought you were allergic to cocadas?”

Frozen, she nervously gulped, not knowing what to say. Camilo’s eyes lit up, and he exclaimed, “So you were lying! What was really the reason behind your red eyes that day, hmm?”

“I-”

“A dandelion got into your eye?”

“No, Cam-”

“ Did you cry? ”

Words didn’t come out of her throat at that, the boy’s expression softening. “Why?”

“Camilo, it’s really none of your business.” She prepares to walk off again. “C’mon, amiga, there’s nothing wrong with crying- And we had a deal, si? One question per day. Consider this as my question of the day!”

Jayliah sighed, “Fine. You caught me, I did cry that day. Mang Fernan just…made me realize I grew up too early.” Her eyes were now fixed on the tiled floor. “What do you mean?”

“One question per day, nosy boy.” She flicked his forehead, capturing him in surprise. “I-”
“Thank you for the cocadas. Good night, Camilo.”

“Jayliah-” He groans in annoyance. “Buenas noches, fantasma. I wish you a nightmare!”

…

It was around eight-thirty when she gazed at the stars on her way home. However, the universe decides that peace was really not present. Indeed, her senses told her to look behind; there she saw the Madrigal with a bow. “I’m sorry for disturbing your walk, Jayliah- I’ve been bottling this for almost two months. May I take a minute of your time?”

Lately, she’s been bewildered by her sudden friendship with Isabela. Now, another Madrigal member was trying to approach her? The girl nods her head. A few minutes later, they’re sitting on a quiet bench. “What’s happening, Ate?” The girl finally spoke up, cracking her knuckles to ease her anxiety.

“I may have overheard a conversation before your mother’s birthday party last September. Something about your sketchpad being torn apart…and I’ve been contemplating telling you this. I’m worried for you, Jayliah. ” Dolores confessed, shutting the girl’s train of thought. So, she continued, “I know a lot of things about you, too. I’ve heard you have panic attacks, and I’ve listened to bits of your past. You’re a strong one for that, but…I can’t help but check up on you.”

Jayliah, a lot more confused by the situation, tilted her head. “I’m…doing fine? Why? Doesn't everybody experience harsh treatment from their parent? Is it not normal to feel anxious? Why must you check for me when it’s how life plays out? ” By that mere response, Dolores knew she was not okay. Her doe eyes had tears building up now.

“Jayliah, I’ve been living in this town for more than a decade, and yet, I have never witnessed a family bond so concerning. Madrigal’s history is nothing compared to what you Garcias have.” The bowhead’s words struck the stoic’s heart with surprise. “Really?”

Dolores nods, taking both of her hands and providing warmth. The girl felt strange; even hand-holding felt foreign to her. “See? You’re taken aback, and I know you’ve been questioning why you feel weird since the day Mang Fernan let you cry in his arms.”

The girl flinched a bit at that, forgetting that someone in town knows all. Her chest suddenly felt tight. “Ate, please don’t tell anyone about it- about me crying, about how different my family is-” Brows furrowed in pity as soon as the woman heard her plead. “I won’t.” With that, she gently embraced her. Jayliah sighed and felt the rare comfort of a hug once more. A few seconds later, Dolores held her face, brushing her thumb across her cheeks.

“You know, mi hermanos are glad you exist. Especially for Camilo…he’s been a lot happier these days, always thrilled about what the day brings. He’s always excited to wake up to get to talk to his new friends–Andres, Liliyah, Mateo, and you . You’ve served as his light, helping whenever you can. It’s not usual for a girl to forbid Camilo from shapeshifting and have late-night conversations. And let me tell you, I heard your words- the moving clouds analogy, your view on adulthood…They were beautiful. It’s only fair if you receive the same comfort you bring to people.” The woman spoke, her words honey to Jayliah’s ears. Then, she lets go of her face, giving a new sketchpad to her.

“What’s this?” The enigma hesitantly accepts. “Señora Amanda tore your old sketchbook. I can feel how you’re sad about it…you even burned your talent for it. Take it as a token of gratitude.” She now clutched the basket of cocadas and the sketchbook close to her, as if giving Camilo and Dolores a deserving appreciation.

“Thank you, Dolores. You opened my eyes.”

“No problem, Jayliah. If you ever need a safe place, come to me, okay?”

“Okay..”

“Buenas noches, milagrosa. I wish you sweet dreams.” Her face almost twitched into a smile at the obvious contrast of the two Madrigal siblings. “Good night, Ate.”

…

At nine o’clock at the entrance of the Garcias’ house, Jayliah busied herself by feeding fish once more. Then, the main door opened, revealing a happy Andres. “My favorite cousin!” He greets, messing with her hair. “How’s Mateo?” She asks.

“I feel silly over the fact that I sulked after the dinner incident. I’m such a loser for being insecure when I know you hate him. But! He did tell me he appreciated my presence today!” The tall Garcia squealed like a teenage girl. “I knew Mateo was different from your past crush anyway. He’s not the type to cut my hair short.” 

Andres snickered at her joke. “Very funny, ‘insan. How about you? Did you feel happy today?” The scary Garcia nods, “Well, the courtship ended on good terms. Of course I am.” The boy hummed, observing her face. “Why the gloomy look, then?”

Jayliah paused, thinking of an excuse. “What do you mean? I always have the same face, don’t I?” Thankfully, he was convinced. “Eh. Makes sense. I gotta have my beauty sleep now, paalam!” He left.

As she finished caring for the fish, she glanced down at the small drawer under the aquarium. It’s a locked compartment for years, she wondered who could have made it that way. That night, she knew she couldn’t sleep. With a sigh, she left the Garcias’ house again.

~☻☹~

You’d expect her feet would land in her usual spots–the windy hill or the small clearing in the woods with the perfect view of the moon. However, she took a breath on a mossy cliff . Somehow, she felt different standing in the scary place she’d seen in her dreams. Her mind was filled with thoughts, yet she found comfort in that. Stars twinkled, as if acknowledging her presence in the universe’s breadth. 

“If I’m only an atom in this big world, why care about my background that’s now labeled as ‘concerning’?” She murmurs to herself before taking out her leather journal.

November 6, 1952

I’m a cat killed by curiosity. I only wanted to find out what molded me to become an unexpressive girl. How come I’m experiencing an echo? Memories from the past are haunting me in the present. What’s worse is that those memories are limited; I can only remember bits of it. I reminisce about playing with sand, then getting scolded because of it. I see my younger self doing what’s good, only to be returned with punishment. I see it now. I’m not scared of disappointment, I’m scared of getting hurt because of it. No wonder loud noises and hand movements make me cautious. Thinking of my family, I don’t recall a group hug or a simple sense of peace. Was all this really not a normal part of childhood? Why do I feel upset about this? It’s in the past, right?

She stops writing, taking a shaky inhale. Kneeling, she asked for help, clasping her palms together. “Lord, if you hear me, please help me understand what’s troubling me. And if the road ahead turns dark, then steel my soul to walk it. Shout to me when I feel like giving up…Please, I don’t want to die yet .”

Tonight, she prayed until midnight, basking in the melancholic comfort of the mossy cliff.

~☻☹~

Barefeet ran in a hurry, careless of the small twigs drawing red lines on her pale skin. Her heart was heavy enough to be immune to physical pain. In her ears, the frantic breath was louder than the storm occurring in a familiar forest, which opens to the same melancholic cliff she had prayed at. With a choked sob, her legs led her to the very edge of the cliff, shaking and hopeless. Then, she slipped.

Jayliah woke up, panting heavily as beads of cold sweat stuck to her forehead. Her hand gripped her nightgown in an attempt to calm down. “You’re fine, you’re fine…Just a nightmare..” She murmured, her heartbeat gradually slowing down. A knock on her door soon followed: “Milagrosa, stop oversleeping! You’re food’s gotten cold!” 

“I’m on my way, sorry Ate.” 

It was two days later when the sun struck in the afternoon in the busy town, including the joyful casita. Jayliah trekked up the hill to where it stood, shielding her eyes from the sun. The weather woman was certainly in a good mood these days. With her fist barely connecting to the door, it already welcomed her, the tiles shoving her to the casita’s heart. She glanced up, in search of her new older friend. However, she grabbed the canvas in her arms tightly, just by observing how each Madrigal interacted with bliss on the balcony.

“ I heard your footsteps approaching.” The soft-spoken woman now appeared behind her, her posture more precise as she showed a painting. A painting of Dolores Madrigal herself. “It’s a gift of gratitude…maybe a very belated birthday as well?”

The bowhead took the painting, mouth hanging slightly. Words weren’t enough to express how enthusiastic she felt. “I wish I’ll have a daughter like you someday!” She couldn’t hold back the volume of her voice, hugging the girl tightly. The girl slouched, her arms gently around Dolores as well.

“Woah, woah, woah–Since when did you and mi hermana become friends??” The woman’s brother ruined their moment, along with two boys, Andres and Mateo. Though Dolores kept her hold on Jayliah’s hand. “Days ago.” 

“Wow, fantasma. Only that recent? You already gifted her a portrait, and here I am, your amigo since August or something-OW!” The tall Garcia smacked the back of his head. “Stop sulking, will you? Trust me, I’ve been in the same household with her since childhood, yet she never painted me.”

“At least she gave you her box of hair accessories!” The shapeshifter kept complaining. Dolores took that as a sign to leave, ruffling the girl’s hair. “Bear with him.” Now that her only source of peace was away, she sighed at the sight of the three boys.

“It’s a bad idea to establish a trio like yours, Andres.” She spoke, making him smile wider. “Why not? It’s a perfect blend. I’m gay!” He soon grabbed the peacock’s arm, urging him to speak. With unwanted attention, Mateo murmured, “I like boys and girls and he’s-” Camilo cuts him off, “And I’m a chameleon, compatible with any kind of friendship!”

“That was as unnecessary as my father abandoning my family.” She spoke and began to walk away, as usual. “Perdon?” Mateo had his jaw agape, surprised by the reveal and her dark humor. Meanwhile, Andres and Camilo were laughing out loud.

“Wait- Jayliah, we need your help!” The tall Garcia blocked her way. “Tio Felix’s and Luisa’s birthdays are coming up, and Mirabel plans to bake a cake again with the usual people. But! We can’t use the Casita for hiding the surprise, so…mind asking for Mang Fernan’s space?” He sheepishly smiled.

“What? Who am I to demand a man nearing his senior year?” 

“You’re like his daughter. He’ll only say yes if it’s you asking.” 

“I-” She glanced at Camilo and Mateo, seeing how they were pleading. “Fine. But no promises.”

With that, she left the three stranded in Casita. “Was she…that feisty the whole time?” The tailor’s son spoke. Camilo pats his back, “Seriously, amigo, what did you see in her? She’s got that rodent energy–silent entrances, blank expressions, and exits so sudden you'd think she spotted cheese across town.”

~☻☹~

It was nearing November 13th. The Madrigals decided to hold the two celebrants’ birthdays on the same day and in the middle of their birthdates, which was a relief for a young group of friends. 

“LILIYAH! HE’S RUINING IT AGAIN!” Andres complained to the mother duck. Without hesitation, she slapped the shapeshifter’s hand away from the cake. “Behave your ass, worm.” Those were the words shared in the process of baking Felix’s cake. On the other side was the peaceful group, mouths shut as they focused on decorating Luisa’s cake. As they finished it, Mirabel high-fived the two introverts. “Phew! Just imagine the stress if you hadn’t come clean with each other…” She said, gaining a side-eye from the stoic, and an awkward chuckle from the fashionista.

“Seriously, Mateo, there’s no day when she didn’t complain about your obsessive passion-” 

“Mirabel, move on. I’m no longer a misandrist.” Jayliah says, the Madrigal girl, raising her brow at that. “Uh-huh…As if I didn’t just see you glare at a random man earlier…”

“A misandrist? Why?” Mateo pipes in. “Ah, it’s because of her long list of encountered bad men.” She proudly says, the scary Garcia sighing in embarrassment. 

“Really? My dad belongs on that list, then.” That certainly piqued the ‘non-misandrist’ girl. “Camilo told me he once hurt a cat. With that action, I assume he’s an alcoholic with intense anger issues.” The peacock blinked in surprise. “Precisely.”

“Great. We can be best friends.” Jayliah confirmed. Mirabel stood between them, amused. “And you call that a change of view, milagrosa?”. “Yes.”

The contrasting groups’ conversations were now paused, looking at the owner of their ‘rented’ place for preparation. “Anyone want snacks?” A pitcher of fresh juice and arepas sat on the counter. Surely, the chameleon–one with a thin figure yet large appetite was the first in line to get the local artist’s arepas. “You’re the best, Señor.”

With that, the group soon got in line, except for one girl. She kept her hands busy by trying to fix minor errors on Luisa’s cake.  Fernan only sighed at that.

… 

It’s been an hour of preparing the surprise, with the group establishing plans to capture the celebrants. Along with that, the loudest of the group, Camilo and Andres, proved that they’re annoying. Liliyah and Mirabel are their enemies, constantly scolding the troublemakers. Outside of the chaos, Mateo had each moment captured in his camera. It was not a surprise that they all had fallen asleep on the local artist’s floor. 

The figurative father and daughter walked around them as they covered them in blankets, with Jayliah borrowing the fashionista’s camera to have blackmail material. Then, she now crouched down on where the shapeshifter was snoozing, his head sharing Andres’ stomach as a pillow with Mateo. She reached out to tuck him in. Suddenly, just as she was about to pull away, Camilo grabbed her hand. “ Mami…I miss your lullabies… ” He murmured in his sleep. Jayliah was confused. Was this some sort of memory with his mother? Probably . A few seconds later, he lets go of her hand. “He seems fond of you, hija.” Fernan chuckles.

“I hope not.” She replies, eyeing the snack she still hasn't eaten resting on the counter. Without hesitation, she sat in the high chair, munching on it. The man soon followed. “Would you like coffee instead of juice?”

 The girl nods before receiving a freshly-made coffee. “You really stand out. Only someone with the soul of a tired librarian would pick coffee over juice.” The man told her.

“Are you insulting me, old man?”

“No!” He grins. “I’m only making a point, kid.”

“I’m all ears.” She sips on her coffee.

“Notice how they’re asleep?” 

“Mhm.”

“They expressed themselves, that’s why. The loud boys made noise without apology. The strict girls held their lines firm. The boy with the camera chased his passion. And now, they’re all just resting—worn out from being true to themselves.” Jayliah already knew where this was heading, but let him continue. “I’m telling you, mija. How can you rest if you keep your face stoic? ”

“Manong, I already told you about how I’m recently trying to find who I was before.” 

“I know. But you prioritize food other than anything. Look at you, it’s only now you’ve decided to eat. That means something is in your mind.”

Jayliah pursed her lips, having no choice but to reveal herself in front of a mind-reader. “Dolores told me that growing up with shouting and no warmth isn’t normal. I didn’t say much, but… it stayed with me. Made me feel a little hollow.”

The local artists looked at her in pity. ‘ All this time, you’re unaware? ’ He thought.  “It’s alright. It must have been a wild surprise for you.”

“How can I stop being upset over it?” She desperately asked. “I don’t think that’s how it’s meant to work, Jayliah. It’s okay to feel bad about it. Pushing those feelings away might also push away parts of yourself that need to be heard. So be kind to yourself—and maybe ask, gently, why it hurt.”

‘Why..’ She spoke in her mind. “Thank you, Manong. I’ll keep that in mind. ”

Chapter Text

The sun just woke up from its slumber, and rays of light are barely shining in the town yet. As early as that, the robotic girl sneaked out from her room, a basket filled with her clothes in her arms. She knew that her mother would barge in and tell her to wear something extra for a birthday party that wasn’t hers. Looking down from the window, ‘thankful’ wasn’t enough to describe her thoughts about Mirabel. She’s a hero of everything.

“Be careful, Jayliah!” The Madrigal whisper-yelled, actually offering her arms in case she falls clumsily again. Fortunately, her feet plopped down onto the soft grass. “Are you sure I can borrow your shower?” The Garcia worries. “If it means escaping from your mother, yep.” And with that, they ran, like females freed from societal expectations. 

…

As the young girl changed to her usual set of clothes, she thought of the Madrigal’s home. With a sigh, she pushed open the bathroom door Casita had built inside Mirabel’s room.

“ Is it weird to wish to have Madrigal as my last name? ” Jayliah asks her friend who let her crash in her room to avoid wearing elegant clothes from her mother. “Huh? Are you saying you want to marry someone from my family?” 

Horrified, Jayliah immediately shook her head. “No. I’m only admiring the magic in your house, it made me want to live here.” The girl with glasses laughed, “Well, you’re welcome here anytime!”

The stoic nods, staring at herself in the mirror. “How come you’re still pretty with your hair damp?” Mirabel asks, which again…made Jayliah blink many times. “Thanks..?”

Then, the Madrigal had a mischievous smirk, grabbing her wrist. “Come see mi hermana with me! I’ll tell her to style your hair!”

…

She finds herself standing on Isabela’s familiar petal floor. “I have a second client, Isa’!” Her sister said, acknowledging the ginger currently letting the flower girl braid. “Good morning, Jayliah!” Isabela greets. She did not know how to respond. ‘Blame the Garcias, they don’t greet good mornings.’ She thought.

“Ah, good morning, hija!” The ginger, known as the weather woman, greeted her, running towards her after her hair finished. Fair arms embraced her, and there it was again—a feeling of something weird. Longingness . 

“My children talk about you a lot!” Pepa exclaimed, the teen flustered. “R-Really? I hope I proved that I don’t call your son a P-word.”

The woman chuckled. “You’re quite humorous with that Melpomene mask. Now, sit, hija.”

She obeyed, relishing in the comfort of Isabela’s fingers braiding her hair. Quietness led her actions, just listening to the Madrigals talking, banters, and laughter echoing in her ears. And once her hair was done, she kept silent, a heavy weight in her chest as she was brought to a group hug. That moment, she asked herself the same question: ‘Is it weird to wish to have Madrigal as my last name? ’

Maybe it isn’t about magic after all.

~☻☹~

Afternoon, she strolled into town after taking a break from helping. However, as she was about to go back to Casita, she spotted a chameleon looking passed out under the shade of a tree. 

“Are you okay?” She asks, and the boy jumps out of fright. “Fantasma! Will you stop sneaking in like that- woah-!“ His eyes scanned the new look. “You look… bald .”

“Great. I shouldn’t have let them braid my hair. What are you doing here?” She jokes, taking a seat under the tree next to him. “Ah, the house is too crowded and I’m escaping mi Abuela’s orders. I need to rest.” He responds, almost anxious because Jayliah is next to him, analyzing him again.

“You don’t look restful these days. During the cake preparation, you stopped me from getting up after I tucked you in, and you murmured: ‘ Mami, I miss your lullabies . ’ That’s…concerning.” The boy froze at that, “I did?” He chuckles awkwardly. “Mhm. Did you fight with Tia Pepa?”

“No, I love my mom! It’s just-“ He sighs. “I miss being a child, pampered by my parents…Pero, I’ve grown up, and it means there are responsibilities instead of sunshine and rainbows.” He answers, resting his head against the trunk of the tree. The girl keeps silent, drumming her fingers on her knees.

“Say, what do you do to feel like a child again?”

The boy shrugs, “I don’t know? Hang with the town rascals, I guess? There’s just this… innocence in their eyes-” Then, Jayliah interrupts. “Like a reflection of your child-self.” Camilo’s eyes lit up at that. “Exactly! That’s why I have this…urge to protect ‘em from monsters. And I am proud to say that they have a kind and handsome muchacho stored in their memories!” He boasts, a confident gleam in his face. The girl agrees, except for the latter part. “Let’s go then.” She stood up, the shapeshifter following in confusion. “To where?”

“To go bother some kids. How can you relive your childhood if not?” 

That alone made Camilo smile, now happily skipping with her. 

…

“CAMILO!” The three mischiefs surrounded him, jumping–one kid named Juancho, almost sky-rocketing due to his caffeine intake. “Hola, mis ardillas!” They were engulfed in a group hug. Then, one of them, adorned with chocolate skin, Alejandra tilted her head, scanning the ghostly teen. “Tall…” She murmurs, a bulb lighting up. The three got out of Camilo’s arms, pointing at Jayliah. “Tall lady! It’s the toucan rescuer Antonio told us about!” The stoic, stunned how they recognized her, played along. “Guilty as charged.”

The girl with braids, Cecilia, ever-so-bluntly asked, “Woah! Do you also punch gorillas?”

“No,” she replied deadpan. “Just immorally unstable humans.”

The kid cackles before someone begs. “Camilo, can you turn to Jose, I wanna be a tower!”

“I-uh…You see, hermano is taking a break from magic! Plus, you wouldn’t want to see me murdered by the tall lady, yeah? Right, Jayl-”
The scary Garcia, too distracted by the empty stretch of cobblestone, speaks. “Hey, have you gremlins heard of tumbang preso ?”

The group played, soft thumps of naked feet blended with the howls of the children, betting for either the Melpomene or the Thalia, uncaring of dirtying their toes or that there was an upcoming event later at night. From a young mind’s perspective, time is nothing but a slow melt of ice. Quite a contrast to Jayliah’s protective instinct of kids growing up in the blink of an eye. And so, that moment, a sense of mutual connection sparked. Camilo longed to be a little juvenile with only the discomfort of sweating over a game, because that was lighter than sweating on your heavy back full of threatening baggage. She glances at him, his happiness infecting her cracked mask. “Stop looking at me as if I’m the can, ghostie . C’mon, you’ll lose a point!” He nudges her shoulder. “Right, clownie .”

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take a break from the role of the ‘caretaker’. She deserves to be a child, too.

…

Late afternoon, with just enough time to prepare for the Madrigal’s grand celebration, the two teens searched for three houses belonging to their playmates who had fallen asleep. Alejandra was in Jayliah’s arms, and Cecilia and Juancho remained clinging to Camilo. 

“I hope your heart remembered how to be young.” She whispers, the boy’s cheeks are in pain due to grinning too much. “It did work. Gracias for saving me from second-hand embarrassment. I was tempted to ask Mami for a lullaby.”

“Nothing defeats a mother’s cradle.” A familiar tune played in her ears.

“Did Senora Amanda use to lull you to sleep too?”

Her eyes suddenly lost their shine. “No. It was either Ate Carmel or Ate Liliyah who sang to me. I guess my mother only directly did it to them, not me.”

Camilo stood still and thought to his head: ‘ How could a mother not soothe a helpful and selfless girl? ’

“Ay, I guess I should initiate plan A, then. I should call Mami to sing you a lullaby.” Jayliah’s eyes almost popped out. “Are you crazy?? You can’t pass me down your embarrassment-”

“Calmate, I was kidding!” He wheezed, “Just trying to cheer you up is all.”

Relief eased her, but that made her ponder. “Then again…I had a weird idea of wanting to live as a Madrigal instead of a Garcia. You’re lucky your family is the epitome of a warm blanket. Hearing them laughing is almost similar to the ocean whispers trapped inside a seashell, comforting me . And I’ve never been to a shore. ”

For so many times this enigma spoke strangely, Camilo finally interpreted what she meant. And it broke him. “Is this what you mean by ‘growing up too fast’? Are you saying that the coldness I feel in the Garcias’ shadowed halls… has always been there? And that it’ll never warm?”

“ Bingo. ”

“Even way before you guys moved here?”

“The house doesn’t define what ‘home’ is. The family itself defines it, and the warmth or cold depends on their hands. In my case, it’s the opposite of yours—where the walls are warm , but the hearts inside feel frozen. ”

In this moment, both their detective selves discovered something. The shapeshifter found another thing to add to his list of reasons why this girl can’t seem to smile, and a sudden sense of protectiveness and care was brought to light. Meanwhile, the frustrated child that she is, was situated to feel relieved or happy now that she found her answer to why she felt upset . 

~☻☹~

As expected, Jayliah was brought to Dolores’ bedroom after she and the chameleon were scolded. Who wouldn’t be surprised by teenagers who looked like they had run a marathon, standing in Casita’s doorway? 

The bow-head fixed the dress on Jayliah, colored red. “You should try wearing vibrant colors, it looks beautiful on you.” She only hums, zoned out. Dolores’ brow furrowed, aware of her deep thoughts . “I used to wear this when I was your age…Reminds me of my past. But, I had a change of taste now.”

She reaches for a strand, tucking it behind the girl’s ear. “Let go of the past, Jayliah. Don’t dwell on it too much. It might hurt you. ” 

“Let’s go downstairs?” The woman offered her hand, and Jayliah took it. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem, hermana. I’ll walk you home too, just to make sure your mom won’t scold you for not wearing her awful taste in fashion.”

…

In the crowd of joyful citizens, beaming with excitement as they praised Luisa and Felix, one woman had a bitter mood, in search of a rebellious ‘daughter’. That description was quite not fitting for the daughter, who’s busy getting herself cocadas. Her eyes had stars, fingers almost wrapping to the sweet delicacy, only for a couple of them to fall on the floor, arm tugged with force. She turns to look at who is dragging her to a quiet corner.

“M-Mother-!” She nervously gulps.
“Who braided your hair?” Amanda glares at Jayliah, hands on hips.
“Tia Pepa and Ate Isabela. Po. ” She replied, emphasizing 'po' for respect.

“Whose dress is that, then?” 

“Dolores.”

The woman scoffed, "Even that picture-perfect family noticed how embarrassing you looked—they had to clean you up. If you sneak out like that again, I swear, you won’t like what happens next. Do you understand me?”

Jayliah nods, eyes set on the ground, too weak to connect gazes with her mother.

“Look in my eyes, bruja!” 

Immediately, she obeyed, trying her best not to revert to her younger self. This was the true child in her: a shaking, frightened animal , not even close to a daughter. It was only a lost child searching for seashells who had played tumbang preso earlier; an idea of what could have been, what should have been.

“Tell me, what’s your last name?” The woman sternly asks. “Garcia. I’m a Garcia-” 

“Then stop treating the Madrigals like they’re your family. You’re part of my family. ”

Jayliah exhales sharply as Amanda walks away, leaving her rooted in place. Trembling, she clutches the red dress—a Madrigal’s dress—and remembers: she’s a Garcia. With a desperate ache for a home, she steps out of Casita.

‘ She’s right. I don’t belong here. I’m nothing but a lost child chasing warmth I’ll never have. ’ 

Those were the words running in her head as she ran and ran, only to realize she had no refuge. What is Garcia’s home if she’s a disappointment? What is a Madrigal’s home if she’s meant to be frozen? Frozen alone, in a mossy cliff once more . 

…

Inside the ongoing birthday party, the bakers were appreciated with a group photo. They were all there: Fernan, Liliyah, Mirabel, Camilo, Andres, and Mateo—standing close to the overjoyed celebrants. Confused glances were shared, trying to spot the missing person. All were confused, except the shapeshifter, his heart thumping anxiously for some reason.

That night, the clownie worries, “Where are you?”

That night, the ghostie questions, “Where do I go?”

Chapter Text

“ Where the walls are warm , but the hearts inside feel frozen,” ; an exact depiction of the Garcia family, skilled at playing dress-up. It’s no surprise that many people were deceived by them. For instance, Amanda’s three daughters made a heartfelt birthday message last September, unaware that it was scripted. Nobody knew her youngest ‘daughter’, Jayliah, almost gave up on her passion after she tore it apart that night. If only society would care to look at their aquarium, they’ll notice how they truly lived–a fish on the brink of death, surrounded by dried leaves. But an aquarium is what they merely are, a display made for amusement. The real question here is why? What is the deal with this family of actresses and actors?

…

1890, somewhere in Manila.

“Quick! Grab your valuables and do not forget the money !” An old woman, adorned with jewelry yet raised like a warrior, hurried, shoving any shiny items displayed in their home. The wooden entrance was blocked by big furniture as it kept shaking, the banging growing louder and angrier. “¡Abre la puerta o quemaremos esta casa que no es tuya!” The Spanish soldiers yelled. In the panicked household, eleven-year-old Leonora peeked through the small gaps of the window, tightly clutching a toy given by her friend. 

Outside, a girl exclaimed, “Stop! They’re good people-” 

“Keep your mouth shut, Indio!”A bullet hit the side of her head, now sent bleeding to the ground. Little Leonora sobbed, “NO!” She prepares to break out of the window, only to be stopped by her mom, equally terrified as her.

“Nak! Follow Lola’s orders!” She said, dragging her away from the window. The doll was now close to her chest, flashes of her friend clouding her mind. The old woman’s brow furrowed, waiting for them to rush towards the carriage, controlled by the mother’s husband. Too late, a woman appeared, shouting. “There! That’s the old thief who never paid me her debt!” The Spaniards appeared behind the snitch.

She, the mother, shoved Leonora quickly into the carriage. “GO!” She instructed, but the girl’s hands remained on her arms, and her husband was hesitant to start the carriage. Just as she was about to speak, a loud shot was heard, her youthful face painted red .

The grandmother immediately instructed to make a move. Inside it, Leonora was frozen, shouts translated into a ringing. “YOU KILLED MY DAUGHTER, BRUJA!” 

“If only you weren’t greedy and desperate for money, my friend and mama wouldn’t die-- you chose to bag gold instead of saving us !” She argued, still crying. “Oh, so you’d rather live an uncomfortable life?? You want to be like those Indios!?--abused, raped, and executed? I did this for our family, Leonora! ” The old woman glared, fingers harshly wrapped around the girl’s neck.

“I-I’d rather r-rescue them than stay with what y-you call a h-home-!” She gasped, coughing once she was let go. Wrinkly hands grabbed a rifle, wiping her tears off before murmuring: “ You’ll understand me someday, child. ”

All was a blur, except the vision of her friend’s pale figure on the ground and the hole in her mother’s head. She covered her ears, shaking as gunshots bled into her ear. The horses stomped quickly, mirroring her heart thumping in pain.

…

Somewhere in Cebu City, a mansion was filled with guests, or rather, addicts. On a mighty chair, laughed the old woman, gambling with ‘friendly’ Spaniards. Leonora was behind her; no choice but to keep her mouth shut. There was no one to blame anymore. If it weren’t for this deceitful woman, she wouldn’t be blessed by ‘wealth’. If it weren’t for her, she wouldn’t be the heir of the Garcias’ money.

Now that she has reached adulthood, the lack of valuable cash rested in her palms, disgusted by her own ring-filled fingers. Her eyes settled on her eldest daughter, Amanda, singing her heart out in the living room, calling it a “lullaby” for her soon-to-be-born sister, Armani. 

“C’mon, mama! Sing with me!” The innocent child giggles, grasping her mother’s hand. Leonora’s eyes wrinkled, purely out of “ love ”. 

‘ I understand now. ’ She thought. Love is luxury. Money was the source of happiness and a way to survive. Perhaps she’d be like her grandmother–a woman in gold, laughing aloud to drown the ache. She would carry the name “Garcia” like a crown, not an infant, acting and acting until she forgets it’s a performance. That’s what all Garcia mothers dream about their daughters, after all.

~☻☹~

On the lonely cliff, the youngest daughter of them all buried her head in her knees, eyes sore. Guilt was all she felt, believing she didn’t deserve to cry in the clothes of someone who wasn’t her family. No matter how much she tries, she knows the love for her family never falters. That was the point of it, right? Love means fighting for a change. Yet, for sixteen years of trying, her exclamation of truth was only seen as ‘disrespect’, leading her to numerous punishments. Then again, she wasn’t so sure if her protests made sense, especially when she barely knew about the history. She only knew that her great-great-grandmother was a feminist gambler, raised as if she were in a war. Jayliah doesn’t even know why the “eldest daughter curse” was present with her mother and Carmen, who’s slowly turning into a strict woman like they all did.

“Don’t dwell too much with my past, my ass…Maybe send my mother to an asylum first.” She murmurs, about to dig her nails into her arms, but stops once she feels a sharp beak hit her head. She unhid herself from her knees, spotting a toucan next to her. A memorable quote enters her mind:  “I’ll make sure my toucan Ernie keeps you safe…” 

“Even a kid cares more about me than you, Miss Amanda Garcia…” She curses, throwing a pebble, sending it falling from the elevated cliff. The toucan squawked, now nuzzling its head to Jayliah’s arms. Her fingers now danced around its head. 

Then, someone cleared her throat behind the girl. “I’m sorry to bother. I was escaping from people greeting me too much, and Antonio’s bird relentlessly dragged me here.” The Garcia flinched, surprised by the presence of a buff woman, though keeping her mouth shut.

So, Luisa takes a seat next to her, shy. “You know…I know when a person is experiencing noisy voices in their head. I…I used to carry a lot like you before. Used to throw pebbles too.”

The girl was even more conflicted, especially when another Madrigal, who barely knows her, checks in, similarly to Dolores. “Why are you all helpful?” She finally spoke, not expecting a whole rant from the introverted woman.

“Because we’re the Madrigals, but I think it comes naturally now. My sister Isabela used to be the image of perfection, while I’m meant to be strong, with no rest at all. I just lift until it feels quiet again…”

Gathering her courage, she replied, “It’s a contrast to mine. I’m not named something good like ‘perfect’ or ‘strong’-” The buff woman smiles, understanding her situation. “But we still hold the same weight, right?”

“Well, I-...I guess we’re different sides of the same wound, then.”

Jayliah may look calm outside, but her brain? Haywire. Yet, there’s beauty in it. They had different burdens: “You’re strong, so carry it” and “You’re nothing, so fix yourself”. She felt guilty again that she found herself relating to a Madrigal instead of a Garcia. 

Out of the blue, she opens up. “I don’t want to sleep in my home tonight.”

“Oh! I’m sure Abuela wouldn’t mind making a room for y-”

“No, no…Thank you, Ate, but- I’ll manage. Maybe I’d drop by the local artist’s shop,” She reassures. “Do you need help with that?”

The teen shook her head, feeling too embarrassed. With a gentle nod from Luisa, she dusted her skirt. “I’ll get going now, Camilo’s friend . They might be searching for me. But, for a piece of advice…pick a larger rock to throw. It helps with anger.”

“Thank you, Ate.”

…

Around one in the morning, she knocked on the art shop’s door. With a creak, Fernan was alerted. The girl’s face was smudged with mud, her clothes strangely kept clean, and her face was tired. “Dios mio, where have you been? Come in…”

She settles down to her usual spot–the high chair, wordless. The man only placed a plate of cocadas on the table and sat across her. “Mija, everyone was worried sick about you. Especially the shapeshifter, he told me to take home some cocadas in case you’d visit me. Didn’t expect him to be accurate. He somehow knew you felt awful today.”

Jayliah took a bite of the food, “Of course he knows. I blurted out my thoughts too much again. I told him about my stupid deprivation for a family like his. Now, I have to apologize for making him worry-”

“Jayliah. You don’t need to do that. Can’t you see that he cares for you?” 

“And that’s bad. I don’t want anyone to be involved with my problems.” She spoke, out of her stoic shell, now that she’s been extremely restless for the past days. “You’re stupid when it comes to taking care of yourself.” He bluntly said, earning a judgmental look from the girl.

“Come on, Jayliah. I’m here to listen.” He encourages. 

With that, she rolled her eyes and plopped her head to the counter, “I’m not in the right mind to talk about it yet.” Fernan nods at that, “Would you like anything, then?”

She sheepishly looked at him. “Camilo’s not entirely accurate, Manong. I’m not here for a visit. I’m here to crash. I just- I have nowhere to sleep tonight..Please? I can take the floor-”

“No, hija. I’ll make the bed for you.” He stands up, entering a door that transitions from his shop to his actual home, the girl following behind him.

~☻☹~

With barely a sleep, she enters the Garcia home just after dawn. As expected, she felt suffocated by the atmosphere. However, she moved forward and fed the fish once more, like a girl with endless care . There used to be four or five fish in the aquarium, but they gradually passed until there’s only one left. Her brows were slightly troubled, her braids undone, leaving them a curly mess, and her body wore clothes not hers once more. That didn’t go unnoticed by a disappointed woman.

“Not everyone gets the privilege of escaping like you, milagrosa. You look filthy, that’s not a Garcia's behavior.” Amanda appeared from behind. Jayliah kept quiet, almost overfeeding the animal in the tank, annoyed. “I know. But at least someone else is capable of taking care of me.”

The mother scoffed, “Who? I’m sure you didn’t spend the night in the Casita. Your sister and cousin came home clueless about your whereabouts. And, I know you’ve finally realized the Madrigals are trying to pull you into their schemes.” 

“Fernan. I went to an adult who knew me for only months, yet he managed to give what you didn’t in your sixteen years of ‘raising’ me.” Amanda wickedly chuckles. “Be thankful, a chismosa with a red bow approached me at the party. If it weren’t for her reminding me she hears everything, I would have given you a wound Julieta cannot heal.”

“You’ll find a way to punish me, anyway, mother. ” 

“That’s right. I’m sincerely sorry we didn’t make you breakfast. We thought you would abandon this family like your father did.”
That hit her nerve, but kept her mouth shut. “I understand. I won’t eat until you say so.” With that, she storms off, intentionally bumping her shoulder with Amanda. 

On her way to steal Lola Leonora’s guns, a small figure hugged her knees, shaking. It was Niko. By nature, she hides the three-year-old behind, now spotting a fuming Carmel. “Oh, thank god you’re back! Niko was crying a lot, I couldn’t understand what he wanted. Perhaps you could calm him down and possibly make him speak?” Her eldest sister said, hiding a sinturon on her back. “Gladly, Ate.” 

Carmen smiled. “Thank you, as always, Jayliah. I hope your little tantrum was worth it, by the way.” She then re-enters her bedroom, like a babysitter rather than a mother. Jayliah sighs, crouching down and wiping Niko’s tears off—a reflection of herself appearing in her vision.

“Are you okay? Did she hurt you?” She asks in the most gentle tone. Her nephew shook his head, only letting out small whines instead of words. The girl nods before picking him up, swaying slightly as if to shush his nightmares away. She carefully walked upstairs, settling Niko down in her bed. The black cat and the shark plushies that were given by Mirabel and Fernan nestled in his tiny arms as she hummed a familiar tune, fingers combing his hair.

“I’m so sorry you were given this life, Niko.” She mumbles, her eyes turning glossy for the hundredth time already. Then, she felt the boy’s grip on her hand tighten, as if trying to tell her he was sorry too .

…

In the woods, shots were heard, clashing with bottles shattering. Her hair was no longer in curls; she was back to her usual appearance, wearing her own clothes, stomach starving. “My, my, my…So it’s you who’s been stealing my artifacts, hm?”

Jayliah immediately hides the weapon, a nervous look on her face. “Lola, I mean no harm-” She tries to explain, her heart racing as soon as Leonora’s hands reach for her. Eyes tightly closed, waiting for the impact. Then, she feels her wrinkly hand fix her silky hair instead.

“I know, hija. Guns were never meant for hurting. It’s for defense.” The old woman said, stealing the dangerous artifact from her. “This is how you do it properly.” Unexpectedly, the matriarch, ever-so-beautiful at her senior years, pulled the trigger, shiny accessories clattering like wind chimes. The bottle from afar broke into pieces, widening Jayliah’s eyes. Leonora only grins, “I didn’t expect I’d get to pass down advice from the woman I hate.” 

‘Hate? ’ She thought, letting her Lola adjust her posture as the gun was placed back in her hand. She sighs, “There’s something about women, especially mothers, that tells you to go back to them despite their cruel actions. For instance, your great-great-grandmother raised me right. I divorced my husband because I knew he was affecting my daughters; thanks to her, a fierce victim of disgusting men.”

“A victim…?” She asks. “Ay nako, apo! You don’t know how cruel the Spaniards were! Many girls lost their innocence, many girls were forced into learning self-defense. Many girls…like her needed the power just to avoid violence. Did you know she never found her true love, that your poor great-great-lola was arranged in a marriage with one of those colonizers just so she could get the Garcias safe?”

Jayliah was stunned, silent. Leonora’s eyes seemed more…happy with her reaction. “Every woman has their tragic stories, mija. That goes for your mother, too . I used to hate them, not until I understood their side. So, get Amanda off your mind, yeah?”

The old woman grabbed the teen’s head, angling it to the remaining bottle from a distance. Then, she whispers, “Men are the true enemies, Jayliah Garcia. Love is their way to manipulate you…So, picture that bottle to every single boy you despise. ”

A shaky breath escapes her mouth, hands ready to shoot. Flashes of them appeared, laughing around the bottle—Her father with a blurry face, Gabriel, Joaquin…Then, the shapeshifter sat there with his smirk. She hesitates. Camilo was the first ever decent boy she met. She didn’t care that he was a boy…In her mind, he was just a teen trying to live life to the fullest by being a chaotic prankster. But…was this what her Lola felt for her ex-husband when she was her age? Was this what fooled her mother?

“What are you waiting for, Jayliah Garcia? ” Leonora spoke. With a deep sigh, a loud bang echoed around the green forest.

Chapter Text

Who would have thought the big-appetite shapeshifter sets a mission other than arepas? The boy didn’t even get his seconds today, confusing every Madrigal seated at the table. He only replied: “Sorry, lack of sleep,” which was partly true. And as soon as he finished breakfast, he stomped his feet in a hurry, with a new, urgent goal: Locate Jayliah Garcia.

Camilo’s first stop was at the local artist’s shop, his thoughts all about: ‘ She always vanishes, but this time it feels… different ’. He pushed open the door, breathing in the smell of art. “¡Buenos días, Señor! Did your daughter drop by last night?” He asks, a strained, confident smirk on his face. “Sí, chico. Might I add, ‘not-my-daughter’ slept here soundly.” 

The boy chortles, “Don’t act like you haven’t illegally adopted a fatherless fantasma…” Fernan sipped his tea, a sinister grin forming in his wrinkled cheeks. “And you should drop that smile, hijo. I can see that distress in your face. Maybe start questioning that intense heed for Jayliah as well.” Almost immediately, Camilo’s expression dropped to an embarrassed and confused one.

“Who wouldn’t be worried about your amiga randomly disappearing at a party, especially when you might have known the reason why she left?” He argues, leaning against the counter. The man only hums, continuing to sip his tea. “Mhm…” 

“She told me about this crazy seashell story, Señor! Imagine comparing that to your family and saying-” He shapeshifts to the stoic girl. “-’ And I’ve never been to a shore’…which means she doesn’t know what a real family is!” He sighs, dramatically placing one hand, still in Jayliah’s form, to Fernan’s shoulder. “I’m so grateful you exist. You at least showed her a glimpse of what she could–no, should have had…”

The artist had an amused look, “You even got her mole right.” That took Camilo off guard, returning back to his original form. “So?? It’s kind of noticeable.” Fernan shakes his head and puts his hand on the boy’s shoulder this time. “I gave her a sketch a week ago. Almost choked me with acrylic paint when she pointed out I placed her mole on the left, not the right. And you, my boy, got the placement correctly. You do not notice small details unless you’re an artist…or perhaps, experiencing a crush.”

His eyes widened, pulling back from the man’s hand, similar to how he is backing away from that hilarious idea. “¿Q-QUÉ? I am not Mariano Guzman!” The man snorted at this point. “Everybody is capable of love, Madrigal.”

“Not everyone!” He poorly retorts. Then, with a raised brow, Fernan asked, “For example?”

“That boy-allergic Jayl-” He cuts himself off, realizing it’s another hole to continue the teasing, or rather…the big elephant in the room. The local artist laughed out loud, watching the boy accept defeat. “Ay, I’ve been there, mijo. Take your time to think about it. And if you’re looking for her, I can’t help you with that. She sneaked out at dawn like a spider.”

Camilo only grumbles. “Yeah, yeah…Gracias.”

…

Troubled, he strolled around the plaza, glancing at any object for the sake of distracting himself. ‘No, no, no…It can’t be!’ He looks up to the sky, pausing his walk to calm down. With a sigh, he mumbled, “The clouds are moving…You’re fine-” Then, he remembered whose advice this was. “DIOS MIO, I’M NOT FINE!” Camilo did not care that the townspeople gaped at him. Instead, his eyes landed on a certain raven-haired teen. His feet moved towards that person. 

‘No, No! What are you doing, estúpido?? She’s bothering you- And when did she get smaller??’ His thoughts said, but his mouth shouted: “ Jayliah! ” The girl–or rather, woman-turns around. “Wrong, Garcia, boy. Didn’t I warn you about my sister, too?” Carmel spoke.

“S-Señora, lo siento- I just thought- you look like her from behind…” 

Then, a rich laugh emerged, “That’s what our mother says a lot. Quite a shame for me though…” She leaned in and whispered, “Being compared to her is equivalent to being called a disappointment. She’s nothing but chaos.”

Camilo’s hands balled into fists, but hiding it with a bright smile. “Ah…I only wanted to know her whereabouts.” Carmel rolled her eyes, now telling what she knows. “Last time I saw her, she was talking to our Tita Armani. She might have been looking for Andres…Tsk, always runs to that boy whenever she disappears in thin air.”

“Thank you, Señora Carmel.” With that, he left, more weighed down with confusion about two things. One fact is that Jayliah’s sister mentioned ‘whenever’, which suggests this is not her first disappearance. Two, he felt frustrated about his deep care for his friend. Or what Fernan claims to be a crush.

…

In the tailor’s shop, two boys giggled; One a teacher, and the other a learner. They both had cloth and needles, Mateo teaching the tall Garcia basic stitches.

“It goes that way, idiot.” He scolds.

“Sorry, sorry! You should expect failure coming from a kid who cried because he couldn’t sew in elementary school.” Andres huffed, attempting to fix his mistake. The peacock laughed at that. Then, the learner accidentally poked his finger with the needle.

“Nak put-“ He winced. “Are you okay?” Mateo worries, immediately checking his hand. The boy saw this as an opportunity. “Not unless you kiss the pain away, ‘Teo!” 

Frozen for a second, he lets go of his wrist. “You’re insane.” 

“C’mon, fashionista. Let me be the male bird for once!” The Garcia jokes. “I am a guy, Andres.”

“Oh? So you think male birds can’t attract the same kind? Do you need proof? ” He confidently replies. “No, amigo- You’re wrong, I am very supportive of same s-“

Cut off by the door opening, and a horrible-looking Madrigal, they commented in unison. “What’s wrong?” The theatre kid he was, let himself be a ragdoll, falling into the arms of both of his friends. “Me. I’m wrong.”

“Woah, woah…What is this all about?” Mateo gently questions. Camilo pulls away, now observing the two. “What is a crush?”

The two shared a glance, the tall one grinning with confidence, the photographer shyly looking away. “I-“ The shapeshifter interrupted him. “I don’t need to ask anymore. I can’t believe I’m surrounded with love even with mi amigos!”

“Camilo, we’re not-“ 

“Shush, you bird! Can you believe that?? I’m surrounded with love—And Jayliah’s not! And she’s never been around it-“

Andres and Mateo had their jaws agape, especially the girl’s cousin. He cannot believe he just manifested such a ridiculous and almost fiction-like idea. “Are you implying you feel something for my cousin!? THAT IMPOSSIBLE GIRL???” 

“I can totally understand, ‘Milo. She’s an intriguing face- almost a perfect inspiration for the arts. “ Again, the shapeshifter interrupts Mateo, who was trying to comfort him.

“I don’t care about her face! I mean- I- She’s not ugly but-“ He sighs. “I don’t care about whatever’s bugging my stomach right now, okay? I just want to find her after disappearing like that…”

He plops down into a chair, back slouched, and face almost similar to a puppy with no shelter. The two boys sat on either side of him, offering comforting back pats, understanding his point of view. “Trust me, kaibigan. She always finds her way back.”

Meanwhile, Mateo shuts himself up and observes the stressed prankster. He sees it now. He suddenly remembered Jayliah’s words during his cringey behavior: “ It’s like drinking an innocent cup of hot chocolate and with a blink of an eye, your fingers are wrapped around a mug of caffeine”. That was a thoughtful answer on a maturity scale, and Mateo felt dumb for realizing it late. In his view, he found the girl’s eyes beautiful. In the shapeshifter’s view, he treated the eyes as the window of her soul, like how he could have easily been mesmerized by her words, not a pretty face. With that realization, his eyes automatically scanned over Andres, his face painted with a rare, genuine concern, something warm and kind. Perhaps, he noticed that just now, too. Oh, how stupid he felt.

“—Actually, let’s stand up! I have this routine. Trust me, my cousin will appear in this room.” Andres pulled the two puppy-looking boys, engaging in a hand-holding circle.

“Sing after me: Somewhereee over the rainbow~”

“What are you doing?” The Madrigal asks. “Shhh, just do what I say…”

“Repeat after me! Somewhere over the rainbow~”

“Somewhere over the rainbow~” Andres and Camilo followed, soon forming a smile on their faces because of how goofy this moment was.

The Garcia continues, “Way up high-“

The trio was too into it, unaware of a confused girl’s presence behind. However, one phrase was enough to break their ritualistic bubble. “Am I bothering a threesome?”

They broke their circle apart. “JAYLIAH!” Andres and Camilo exclaimed, though the other one was definitely louder. “‘Insan! Oh, how I’ve missed your frown!” He runs to her, preparing to squeeze her in a hug. As expected, Jayliah stops him, holding him mid-action.

“Stop. I’m here to talk to you, not to smell your unpleasant sweat.” She tries to push the tall boy away,  but he keeps trying to baby her. As a final resort, she tickles his sides.

“HOY!” He flinched, hiding behind Mateo despite being taller. The fashionista chuckles, crossing his arms. “Be nice to him. He’s fragile.”

“Fragile? He punched me in the eye because of Gabriel.” Jayliah replies, now preparing to attack Andres. “Stop, stop! What do you want from me???”

“I’m hungry.” The two boys looked at her in confusion. “You could have asked for me instead of Andres. I have an amazing Tia.” Camilo suggested, observing how her skin was paler than normal. 

“I appreciate that, but I’m slowly becoming a burden to the Madrigals.” She then shared a glance with the tall Garcia, a silent message being sent. Andres sighs in understanding, “Fine, ‘insan. But you have to narrate what you did while you were gone.” 

“I slept at Mang Fernan’s place, left early morning, took a shower, played with this-” She pulls out the gun, earning a panicked shriek from Camilo and Mateo. “HOLY PAPAYA, FANTASMA! PUT THAT DOWN-” The shapeshifter exclaimed, torn between snatching the weapon from her and respecting her space. Then, the peacock added, “And I thought I was the weirdest person in town!”

Jayliah hums, finding their reactions amusing. “This is my favorite toy.”  She jokingly aims it at them, Camilo exaggerately ducking. Then, Andres wheezed, “Jay-bird, stop scaring them with your habits. Stay put, will ya? I’ll go out to find you food.”

“I can still walk.” She reassures. “No. One step and your bones will collapse.” Andres firmly says, heading towards the shop’s door. “I’m coming with!” The fashionista suggested, but Camilo pulled him back. “No! I mean- no…It would be weird if it isn’t the tailor’s son who’ll guard his shop, right? Ha-ha-ha!” 

This caught the scary, or rather starving, Garcia’s attention. She tilts her head at him, an obvious hint that she is trying to read him. He nervously adjusted his collar, chuckling nervously before trailing behind Andres. Those didn’t go unnoticed in her eyes, but she was too ‘dumb’ to read him for the first time. The tall Garcia saw the tension, smiling idiotically before he said, “We’ll be back in a minute! Please don’t snatch each other’s hair!”

…

The misandrist and the cringey guy sat in awkward silence. However, Mateo knew this girl wouldn’t start a conversation. So, he takes initiative. “You’ve gotten paler.” And with the least expected response, she replied, “You’ve gotten gay-er.”

That made him chuckle. “I take that as a compliment?” 

“It’s only an observation of mine.” 

Mateo hums, starting a different topic. “I didn’t know starving yourself was one of your talents. What happened that you had to do that?” She glances at him, a sudden expertise in judging a character possessing her. With a conclusion of trust, she gave an honest answer. “Parent with uncontrollable temper.”

“Ay, the usual, eh? My father wouldn’t prepare food when he’s ‘teaching’ me a lesson. Little did he know, I cook better than he does. Hah! Poor him, I guess.” She now faced him fully, actually invested in his remark. “Good for you. Where did you learn to learn to cook?”

“My mom. She’s sadly working out of town. But at least she left me some advice: Speak up for myself and ignore mi papa’s furrowed brows.” She fondly nods her head at that. “Good for you, again. I don’t have another parent to give me advice.”

He smiled with pity. “Well, I could be here only if you forget our embarrassing past. We’re both thriving with trauma after all.” 

“You’re actually funny when you’re not being an unbearable peacock.” 

Mateo snorted. “Thank you. Your scary attitude is worth more than your face.”

…

Meanwhile, the two pranksters watched as the vendor wrapped five empanadas neatly. It was a contrast to Camilo’s messy complaints. “Oh Dios! I think she’ll figure out this weird feeling before me! I’m such an idiot-” 

“Please, amigo. Don’t stress yourself too much. My cousin’s too clueless about concepts of love and crushes.” Andres tried to calm down his friend. “Why are you and Señor Fernan both suggesting such a nightmare?!”

“I know one when I see it, ‘Milo. Because I, myself, am a hopeless romantic for someone, specifically called Mateo Perez.”

The shapeshifter groans, “I can’t imagine turning to a boy like you and a man like Mariano! You both are too sappy!”

“One day, kaibigan… you’ll be able to write cheesy poems.”

“Stop. I do not have a crush on her. She’s just a comforting amiga.” He glares, but his actions say otherwise. He carefully grabs the empanada from the vendor, controlling his temptation to devour this food. As if on a mission, he marched his way back to the tailor’s shop.

Andres sighs, brain empty of ideas of what to do with this situation. “ ‘Amiga’, my ass…”

…

Before sundown, the two Garcias trekked their way back to their home, the pathway covered in dried leaves. It was only the sounds of their crunchy footsteps and Andres’ humming of “Somewhere over the Rainbow”, Jayliah’s personal favorite from the musical her cousin, her older sister, and herself used to reenact as kids. After a few moments, she glances at the tall Garcia. “I’m glad this food charity tradition was invented.”

He grins, “And was invented by pure appreciation. It’s really nothing, just a token of gratitude after you gave me your pins after I hurt you.” She nods, recalling good moments from childhood, pushing away the dark ones. She could only remember her dog. 

“If Gabriel hadn’t happened… would you still have named my dog ‘Darna’?” 

For once in a blue moon, Andres looked peaceful. “I think a cousin’s bond exists from the moment of birth, no matter the situation.”

“What makes sure about that?”

“Look at Mirabel and Camilo! Can you imagine their friendship temporarily died down but somehow found its way to revive again?”

Jayliah pondered this theory. “Makes sense…” Then, her shoulders raised when Andres patted her back. “Relax that brain of yours, ‘insan. You’re thinking of what already happened too much.”

She exhales, now being truthful again. “That’s a hopeless request. I dig into the past because it means something. I’m not just chasing ghosts—I’m fighting for a cause.”

Andres halted his happy stroll at her determination. “Diving deep into your past involves the whole family history. You’ll only lose your mind once you learn the whole story, knowing that there is a reason so unbreakable for why many of us weren’t raised normally.”

‘Normally…’ She thought. ‘Am I really the only one who used to be unaware of this abnormality?’ 

“You’re just going to give up, just like that? I know I’m not the only one who feels suffocated here.” She retorts.

He sighs, now gripping both Jayliah’s shoulders. “ All Garcias are . The only difference is that you still have your strength within you. I admire that, ‘insan. But be careful…look what your actions caused. Out of each member, you received the most punishment. What could happen if you truly shouted, Jayliah?”

She pursed her lips, brows curved slightly. “ Let them punish me again—I’d still rather scream than let the next generation grow up thinking this is normal. ”

With that, Andres gave up. “Good luck with your brave mission, then.” Then, Jayliah reluctantly followed, “Who encouraged you to stay silent?”

“ My mama. ” 

Chapter Text

Once upon a warm day in Encanto, a storm broke, the weather woman rambling words of panic. A nostalgic photograph of her and her husband went missing overnight. “Where could that possibly go?!” Comforting hands snaked around her shoulders, massaging the tensed muscles. “Pepi, Casita will help us out…Remember, clear skies, clear skies…” Felix reassures the woman by taking deep breaths. Then, the tiles shifted, pointing towards the nursery. Without hesitation, the couple burst into the room, only to be met by the cutest sight ever.

In the colorful room, a three-year-old boy held a black and white photo, giggling to himself. Pepa rushed to him, “Camilo, bebé!” She smothered his baby face with kisses. His eyes lit up, showing them the missing treasure. “Mami, Papi! I found your twins!”

Felix gently grabs the photo with a huge grin. “They’re not our twins, hijo. That’s us.” Little Camilo gasped, holding his cheeks. “But- you’re waaaay smaller there!” They laughed at their son before the ginger placed him in her lap. “That’s because we were younger, ‘Milo. And this was our first date. One day, you’ll grow up too and face monsters. Though despite that…love will come to find and save you.” 

He raised his brow. “Like how I love you, mami? Wait, love is a superhero??”

“You little gremlin…It’s not a person. Love is an invisible yet powerful thing. It comes with many forms–love for your parent, for your sibling, your familia…But the greatest form happens between lovers. Like me and your mama, happily married and raising children like you and Dolores.” The man answers, cupping Camilo’s face. 

“Woah…So I’ll be a married man too! But… with whom, Papa?”

“ You will learn when the time is right, mijo. ” 

~☻☹~

Sleep? That was an unfamiliar territory for the past five days. Reason? The disappearance of a stoic girl and at the same time, taking up residence in his mind. Camilo softly held an old photograph of his parents in their teenage years. For the millionth time, he sighs that he is certain his hermana already knows what’s up. As if on time, someone knocked and elegantly sat on the edge of his bed.

“You look like a doomed man in a forbidden romance plot.” She bluntly comments. This made the shapeshifter sit up, curls disarrayed. “You accurately described my problem, hermana. Do you have a prescription for me?”

Dolores tittered at his theatrical expression. “I can help you understand what romance is. I’m an expert.” Camilo scoffed, “No need. Because if everyone’s speculation is right, I’d still get the bad ending. She- Jayliah…it's obvious she’s not interested in these…”

“Hermano, I didn’t give up when Mariano was betrothed to Isabela. Guess where that led me?” 

He glances at her, a hopeless expression on his face. “Yeah, yeah…You’re dating Encanto’s most handsome man.”

She smiled, tucking a lost curl behind his ear. “All I’m saying is…this experience is worth the risk. It might send you through confusion and hurt, but it’s what makes us human. Suppressing it is just unnecessary.” Then, she bumped her shoulder against his. “C’mon, I’m here.”

The shapeshifter, no longer pretending, gave up. “Dolores, she’s like- she’s not fireworks or sunshine or all those cheesy things tías swoon over. She’s…the silence after a storm. I mean- I’m sure you’ve heard her talk similar to an ancient wizard! Thanks to her, all that effort hiding my mess from you? Gone. Now you know I’m a lost wreck! What I mean is that- Ugh! Please tell me you get me about her comfort…”

The bowhead grinned fondly, tracing random shapes on his back. “I do understand you. However, not to the extent where it’s not just admiring her anymore. You’ve got that desperate devotion thing going on.”

“Devotion?”

“Mhm. Seeing her is not enough. You want to appreciate her whole existence, you want to hold her-” 

He cuts her off, a wave of stomach bug interrupting his train of thought. “Don’t. Finish. That. Sentence-” His index finger was held up, ears beet-red. An amused laugh came out of Dolores’ mouth. “Ah, I know now. You’re still in the stage of getting to know this foreign feeling…those pink cheeks-” She pinched his face. “Unstable breathing-” Her hands landed on his shoulder. “And tingly sickness in your tummy.” She pokes his side.

“OW! Way to diagnose me, doctora! Now give me the cure.”

“Doctors don’t cure, they give solutions. So, I suggest letting these annoying symptoms happen, give them time to make sense, and maybe…talk it out to trusted friends.”

A thankful smile crept up his lips. “Gracias, hermana. You’re the best.” He leans in, hugging his older sister. Dolores chuckled, wrapping her arms around him. “I’m happy for you.”

~☻☹~

‘ Talk it out… ,’ said Encanto’s chismosa. And he took that seriously the next day. Camilo knocked on the Guzmán’s door, which was then swung open by the trusted friend himself. “OYE, HERMANO!” The buff man scooped the poor teen into a suffocating hug. “What’s up??”

“Mariano…I think I understand.” A loud gasp happened, Mariano wiggling the poor boy as if to knock his senses out. “¡¿En realidad?! Come inside!”

They were now resting on the soft cushion of the couch, Camilo trying to ignore the macho man’s starry eyes. “I’ll start talking if only you give me distance…”

“Hah! Lo siento, lo siento…” He settles down, trying to keep his cool. “Ok, so?”

“Mariano, you’re the most romantic guy I know… H-How did you know Dolores was it for you?” He cringed at his choice of words. But to the Guzman? He was immune . “Simple! She was nothing like your prima Isabela, who I thought was my true love. Ay…Dolores…there’s something enchanting about her eyes, her voice, her gentleness…Like, you want to be with her for the rest of your life, no matter how frequently you’ve been blessed by her presence. In the end, I will fall in love over and over again because… she is home .”

“Home…” He mumbled–flashes of the scary Garcia’s face appearing in his head, along with her beautiful words. Those little moments were enough for him to feel safe . 

“Exactly! Do you feel that way?”

“I-I think so?” 

Then, Mariano squealed, grabbing the prankster’s shoulders. “WHO IS IT, THEN?” Camilo panicked, unsure if he should tell this eager man about her. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone-”

“Of course! Brothers keep promises!” He offered a fist bump, the boy accepting it with a sigh. Now with his eyes shut tight, he told him.

“... Jayliah Garcia. ”

The man’s jaw dropped to the floor. “Y-You mean that ghostly pale teen from the Filipino family?”

“Sí”

“Camilo, that girl sent me a life-threatening glare because I was chatting with Isabela!”

For some reason, a small grin appeared on his face. “She’s the right person you’re thinking about, then.”

“WHAT. HERMANO, I DON’T WANT TO HAVE A HERMANA WITH THAT SCARY LOOK!”

The Madrigal chuckles, standing up from his seat. “Thank you, Mariano Guzman. You’ve successfully converted me to a sap.”

…

For the first time in ages, Camilo ignored Encanto’s teenage girls complimenting him. Instead, he kept giggling every ten seconds, skipping around town like Little Red Riding Hood. He didn’t even know why. Dolores said to let it happen, so he did. Then, his happy bubble popped when he crashed into someone, a good number of cocadas rolling over the cobbled ground. He froze. He knew who it was.

“You destroyed my balls.” The girl deadpanned. Normally, he’d wheeze at it. Today? No. He felt awful because he possibly made her sad. “J-Jayliah! I’m so sorry! I’ll buy you new ones, I swear—!”

She raises her brow slightly. “Relax. I’m more offended you didn’t laugh. At least smile.” Then, the boy he is, scratched the back of his neck and…

” Heh-heh-heh. ”

He swore to god, he wanted to slap himself, but that would be more embarrassing. At that time, Jayliah’s mask almost broke. “Good enough. Follow me, chameleon. I need answers.”

Outside a restaurant, they sat across from each other–the ghost staring at his soul without blinking. Him? Stared anywhere else as he munched on his fritanga. “So…answers for what?” 

She blinks, finally. “Describe me. For research purposes.” He choked. Was she trying to figure him out? But he hasn’t adjusted to his feelings yet! With a poorly structured sentence, he blurts out: “Uh…sharp eyes, tall, funny, pretty– ” He gulps, “Pretty stoic rat who’s allergic to romance .”

“Huh. I’ll take the last part,” Jayliah said, zoning out as her cheek rested on her palm. Camilo stared at his food and chewed aggressively, wondering why her face looked so… squishable .

“I haven’t seen you around,” she added. “Everything okay?”

‘ Yes, and it’s your fault .’ He thought. “Yeah! Just… busy. Welcoming outsiders.”

She nodded. “You broke your streak of asking me a question per day. And you seem…not eager anymore.” The boy sets his fork down. He should at least know if he is safe. “Why did you want me to describe you?”

“Oh. I’m being a better detective than you, obviously. I just thought I could get a trait I should start off with. Maybe I can figure out why I’m built like this in the first place.” She admits, zero lie in her tone. Camilo felt the weight on his shoulders disappear. “That’s great, fantasma.”

Before awkward silence could settle in, an eccentric man in a monocle and gold watch strutted into the restaurant. The two teens watched the mysterious person. “Probably an outsider…” Camilo mumbled. “And a boastful aristocrat.” He raised his brow at her, amused by how fast she judges a character.

She was right. The man bowed dramatically. “Greetings, lady! I am Ramiro Marroquín, and I demand your most gourmet dish!” Jayliah lightly scoffed, preparing to leave. But Camilo stops her, “No–stay. Watch the chaos unfold.” He whisper-yelled. With a sigh, she sat again.

The man, Ramiro, sent a charming wink to the waiter before he sat down at the largest table despite being alone. “That reminds me of a birthday party with no guests,” Jayliah whispers. Camilo chuckled, about to turn to her, but realized they were already physically close, like two chismosas. Camilo looked away fast.

It was a silent observation until a certain Madrigal swooped her face between them. “Woah, new prank victim?” Mirabel softly chimed in, alerting the boy who shapeshifted in panic. “M-Mira! Since when were you here??”

“Five minutes ago. I thought I saw my best friends smooching, I had to check.”  Jayliah blinks. “You need new glasses.”

“Shut up, Milagrosa. We’re bird-watching, remember?” She laughs, not at her, but at Camilo’s frozen position. As for the wealthy snob, his fine dining arrived. He inhaled the smoke, a satisfied expression on his face. Or so they thought. The moment he took a bite, he spat it out, dramatically slamming his hand to the wooden table. “WHO COOKED THIS?”

The two Madrigals snickered, leaving out the stoic girl. Her posture was suddenly fixed when the man created that sound, lips parted slightly. That didn’t go unnoticed by the shapeshifter. “You good?”

She stood, brushing off her skirt.  “Mhm. Surprised by his bad behavior, that's all. I’ll get going now. Thank you for your time, Camilo.” She begins walking away, only to be gently grabbed by the wrist. “Wait- at least tell me where you’re going…I don’t want you to vanish without my knowledge again.”

An unusual spark in her eyes appeared. “I’m going home.” Camilo exhales, releasing his hold. “....Okay. Bye.” 

With that, he was left with his cousin, who had her mouth open. “Excuse me? What was that ??” The boy, realizing what he did, facepalmed. A different reaction. Mirabel gasped. “HOLY SH-”

His hand hushed her. “Don’t. Say. Anything. I’m not even sure yet-” The girl nods quickly. Mirabel, now set free, suddenly tackled her dear primo in an embrace. “ I will root for you. ”

…

Long black locks spread on top of a soft mattress. For the millionth time, she sighs–mind too preoccupied. Camilo was right. She tends to reject romance. But…why? Is it solely because of her distrust of men? Jayliah sits up, grabs her journal, and relaxes at her desk.

November 20, 1952

He had a point. I am hyper-aware of complex life concepts except the biggest talk of the world: Romance. Perhaps my abnormal childhood contributed. I don’t even know how a family should love. The word ‘love’ itself feels weird for me to write about. Is this because of stupid men again? If so, I wish I could shoot them with a rifle. They just keep challenging me. Now that I think about it, a single mother is common for us. First, Lola told me that great-great-grandmother was only arranged in a marriage. Second, Lola herself is widowed due to her divorced husband’s death caused by illness . Third, my mother was left alone, raising me and my sisters. There’s no sense of romance in all of them. Did that make me cautious? 

She stopped writing, growing annoyed, realizing she’s only orbiting over one idea. There was no definite answer unless…talking to the enemies themselves. Her main goal was to find out why men act that way and possibly bash them at the end of her interview. With a new purpose set, she slipped into her nightgown. “They can wait. Real men should learn patience.” She murmurs. Ah, never beating the boy-phobic allegations….

Mission #1: Interrogate the last two men standing, Ramon and Julio.

Chapter Text

For generations of a doomed lineage of women, a teenager thinks men are to blame. Hence, it affects young family members’ viewpoints on romance. But she, the overthinker, denies that men are the sole reason for her twisted perspective. Besides, she’s been planning on burying her 'I hate boys' attitude lately. And the truth is? Feedback from women wasn’t enough. 

A father with a bloated tummy was spotted washing the breakfast dishes. This was a rare moment for her, approaching a family member. “Tito Ramon.” She called.

“I’m busy.” He ignores. Then, she took a deep breath. “I saw Andres kissing the tailor’s son.” 

The kitchen knife falls to the sink, his eyes shocked. “ANO?”

“I’m just joking, Tito. Sorry.” Ramon pinched the bridge of his nose. “Baliw ka talaga—don’t joke like that. What do you want, ha?” 

She wordlessly helped him with the dishes, drying off the plates. The man sighs at the odd response and continues with his chore. Eventually, she speaks. “I’m currently investigating women’s curse in our family, but I thought it would be unfair if I only focus on them. I want to hear your side, Tito.”

Ramon was taken aback. It’s once in a blue moon someone asks for his internal conflicts, and Jayliah was the last on the expected list. “Young boys are taught to be strong and independent, to serve their family like a soldier. Yet, when I became a Garcia, it all…flipped. This family is strange, having a female matriarch and lacking males in the family tree. I immediately knew I had fallen in love with a woman stuck in a demanding home.” 

He paused, hesitating to tell his story to the most ‘undisciplined’ Garcia. “I…I thought I could fight it like a brave man. But suddenly, I’m a weak pawn in the family’s game. To pretend, to be forced to a job I don’t love for money.” Suddenly, he felt like tearing up. “And I-I think I failed, Jayliah. I let myself conform.” HE wiped a hand over his face, avoiding her gaze. “Do you know how many sleepless nights I’ve passed because of the guilt of hurting my wife and my boy?”

That’s when a huge weight of empathy dropped on the ‘boy-allergic’. “ ‘Di po-”

He interrupts her, “Well, now that you know- Go and protest at your Lola, tell her how our family is strained. You’re the only one left with an undying courage to fight!”

Ramon grabbed her wrists, almost begging. She flinched, remembering the times her arms were hurt because of her mother, a woman . He continues, bitterly laughing, “You wanna know more, hija?? I support my son in whatever he does - he can like boys! But…I’m so scared of disappointing Lola that I had to run into Armani’s arms as if I don’t hurt her myself-”

“She..She was like you, you know? I’m convinced the youngest daughters are not cursed but blessed with a strong spirit. I hope yours wouldn’t die like my wife’s…So please, don’t ever stop trying…” At that point, Ramon’s face was threatening to cry.

Jayliah, put in new lenses, gently grabbed her uncle’s calloused hands. “Thank you, Tito…and if no one told you before- You’re a great dad.” She lets go, watching him freeze. Awkwardly, she escapes, only to hear a loud sob from Ramon, followed by Armani’s worried voice.

She lets out a shuddered breath, trying to process it all. ‘That’s one way to start an interrogation…’ She thought, eyes now focused on Carmel, who left her husband and son in their bedroom. The woman then walks past the motivated girl. “Don’t just stand there, milagrosa. You look stupid.”

“Thank you.” Jayliah’s answer made Carmel confused, ignoring and exiting the house. Now with the evil witch gone, she hiked up the stairs to her sister’s bedroom. One knock, the door opens, revealing Julio and his son Niko.

“Yes?”

“Tito, I hope you wouldn’t mind a question or two.”

As expected, the youthful man talked about the same curse Ramon was saying. “I witnessed many Garcias give up. And I fear I’ve become like them; silenced and forced to be molded to expectations…”. He ran his thumb along the child’s cheek. “I only stayed for this boy.”

Julio confessed, cradling Niko in his lap. “It’s a sad thought, kapatid. Niko inherited the tradition too early. ” Once again, pity filled Jayliah’s heart, now observing her quiet nephew. “I’m happy you stayed for him. You’re…the gentlest dad in the chain.”

He chuckles at her, “And I’m sure you’re the bravest among all.” She ruffles Niko’s hair. “I’ll get going now. Salamat, Tito.”

“No problem.” Foot about to step outside, Julio suddenly added, “If you want more mystery, start with Lola Leonora. I heard stories about her divorced husband passing away the moment he came back to the family. Armani likes to call it ‘murder’.”

That made her pause in interest. “Will do.”

…

Quickly enough, she wrote everything down.

November 21, 1952

Today, I stepped into a new world. I’ve lived long enough as a feminist–or so I thought. I’m starting to think the Garcia women influenced me too much that I call misandry ‘feminism’. What my uncles told me made me realize there’s no enemy in our home but a ghost. There’s no such thing as a male or female villain. Only humans, trapped in a tradition many failed to escape. Now I see, my fear of love never came from men. It came from watching it always end in disaster, where women are hurt due to men, and women pressure men. It was a never-ending pattern until no one knew who was hurting anymore. That was the ghost playing with us .

~☻☹~

When the warmth of the afternoon arose, Jayliah hurried to look for her cousin. He predicted her obsession with family history and warned her. But what she gathered today was far from danger, especially the good news about Ramon’s homophobia. Panting, she prepares to enter the tailoring shop.

She pushed it open, and the bell dinged. “Andres-” Too bad, the sound of the door did not alert the two boys quickly. In front of her was a sight that almost made her jaw drop. For the first time in forever, Jayliah sees romance up close—not in ruin, not in yelling—but something real. Two friends, lips connected, like fools. Naturally, everyone panicked. Mateo shoves Andres away from him, his face heating up. The tall one? Same as the peacock.

“JAYLIAH GARCIA YOU-” Andres shouts.

“Gago?” She mutters, immediately going back outside and covering her eyes. ‘ Did I just jinx something!? ’ The scary Garcia internally panics. She crouches down, trying to rub off the vision from her innocent mind. “God, help me…”

As if on cue, Andres peeks from the door, still blushing crazily. “Bobo kang bata ka! Go inside, I’ll explain!” She stands up, palm covering her eyes, still traumatized. The tall Garcia scoffed at that, gently leading her inside.

Even with the support of a chair, she still had her hands covering her poor eyes. “Jayliah, please– can you stop that?” Andres begged. 

Then…a melpomene mask broke.

“STOP? YOU EXPECT ME TO MOVE ON FROM THAT? I JUST SAW YOU SMOOCHING MATEO WITH A DUMB SMILE–AND YOU BOTH ARE DOING THAT IN THE SHOP OF A HOMOPHOBIC FATHER?? IT’S BEEN ONLY A WEEK SINCE-”

The two boys had their mouths wide open, shocked. Her cousin almost laughed in amusement. However, no matter how much he was enjoying the rare expressiveness, he placed his palm over her mouth, the complaints muffled. “Shhh! You’re making this even more overwhelming!” Then, finally, he laughs, followed by Mateo.

“Calm down, stoic- we’re all stressed here!” The peacock attempts, now gently rubbing her shoulders. With a force, she pulls away from them, breathless. “You- Don’t go near me, you gays. I’m trying to erase it from my brain-”

“Alright, ‘insan.” He raised his arms up, voting for peace. Now that everything’s quieter, Jayliah finally speaks, back to her normal self. “Since when..?”

“Just now.” Mateo replies, as Andres added, “And you happen to witness a milestone of my life.”

She sighs, fidgeting. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” They immediately stopped her from worrying. “No, it’s okay. As long as you don’t tell my father about this.”

Suddenly, she had sparks in her eyes again. “Yeah? Well, I happened to discover a secret from Tito Ramon.  He accepts who you are, Andres. He was only scared of Lola.” A sense of happiness filled the room. 

“You’re not joking?” Mateo asks. “No. The real enemy here is your father, fashionista.” 

Then, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. Andres embraced her, thankful that she broke in. “‘INSAN YOU DORK! Thank you thank you thank you-”

She tries to wiggle out, but eventually gives up. “Mhm..” 

“All it takes for you to express is a kiss?!? Mateo, we should- OW!” He pulls back from the poke, giggling yet sobbing. “Don’t. Even. Think. About. It.”

On the side stood Mateo, a contented smile on his face. “On behalf of our embarrassing action, have this as an apology.” He hands Jayliah some arepas from the counter. “Thanks.”

The room then suddenly burst into laughter, the kind that comes with relief. Jayliah didn’t chuckle, but there sits the tiniest curl on her lips—the kind that surprises even her.

“ So, any plans to humiliate the enemy, oh-so-stoic? ”

Chapter Text

In the past weeks, a lot has happened. Peace finally settled between the aromantic bomb and the delusional peacock. The same aromantic also gathered hints of her family history after a realization of abnormality in their tradition. Unfortunately, in the meantime, her investigation halted. She’s currently busy being a supportive friend.

The two teens perched around the mother duck’s messy desk. Since yesterday’s unexpected twist, Jayliah figured to approach her trusted older sister with the talent of forgery. Liliyah stood up, proudly holding the letter from “Mateo’s mother” between her fingers. 

“Here you go, loverboy.” She hands it to Andres, who’s currently trying not to explode. “What a queen, Sigurista. Salamat. I’m sure his father will be terrified!” The two giggled evilly before glancing at the girl zoning out beside them.

“Oi. What’s on your mind?” Liliyah flicks her sister’s forehead. She slaps her hand away, “I yelled yesterday.” Then, the tall Garcia clicks his tongue, “I’d kiss Mateo again in front of you, you know?”

“Don’t. Even. Try.” She glares at him. The eldest got in between them, keeping the peace. “I didn’t know love was that terrifying for you, milagrosa.”

Jayliah scoffs. “I witnessed generations have the same bad ending.” Her voice falters, eyes darting towards her cousin. “I hope it won’t be your fate with Mateo, ‘insan.”

Andres lightly smiles, understanding her point. “Trust me, Jaybird. I’d volunteer for swimming in lava if it means getting to be with him.” Her nose slightly scrunched, disgusted by his words. “Pfft- stop that face. You’ll understand someday. I know someone who li-”

He gulped once he noticed the sisters were looking at him, wide-eyed. “HEH- that never came out of my mouth, okay? Now, let’s focus —I’ll be serenading Mateo tomorrow night. Anybody want to join…?”

…

Harana: A way of courting in the form of music. In other words, serenading. Little Jayliah recalls her aunt playing a song for Ramon, with a younger Andres on his lap. 

That was the closest thing she had ever been exposed to healthy love. That was a long time ago though. But, it wouldn’t hurt to bring it back.

Step 1: Emotional appeal. No, scratch that, she cannot do that. Step 1: Persuading.

“Jayliah- what are you doing? Stand up!” Armani hugged the shawl closer to her, weirded out by her niece’s behavior. Jayliah didn’t obey, keeping her knees rested on the floor.

“Please, Tita. Play your drums again. I can’t do this alone.“ 

“I can’t, mija- Mama told me to stop-“

“Then, I’m telling you to start again.” She said, determined. The woman sighed, crouching down and meeting Jayliah eye-level.

“For what?”

“Your son, Tita. He’s performing harana for Mateo Peréz.”

There, surprised silence filled the air. She stared at the girl. She didn’t want another Gabriel incident, but she saw the pleading in her. Whoever Peréz is, it’s not a Gabriel.

“Oo na. Nanalo ka na.”

Immediately, Jayliah stood up. “Salamat po. Would you mind another query?”

Armani just nods her head. “Why did you discourage Andres from curiosity in family history?”

“Because I don’t want him to be silenced when he’s already quiet.” The woman answered, sending her niece a warning. “You’ve tried fixing us before…” Jayliah muttered, realization hitting her.

“That’s right. Look where it took me, hija. Nobody stopped me from trying, but this…lingering air did. I don’t think you can fix what’s created from the past. So, be careful-“

“No. I’m willing to sacrifice myself if it means saving us.”

Hesitantly, Armani sighs. “Do whatever you like. Just run to me if it gets too much…okay?”

Pause.

“Now, come on. Help me sneak out these-“ She unlocked a door inside her and Ramon’s room, revealing a dusty set of drums, and an old model of electric guitar.

Jaylih’s eyes were suddenly filled with stars. 

 “Holy shit.”

Armani gently nudged her arm. “Language!”

…

The two Madrigals bickered, but delighted by the news. The second they heard from Dolores about Andres and Mateo, they went straight to Garcia's household. Hence, spotting the two Garcias seemingly sneaking out instruments.

“FASTER, ‘MILO! YOU’RE WALKING WAY TOO SLOW!” Mirabel beamed, eager to help to the serenade. The shapeshifter complained, “Maybe help me properly!!?”

Who came next to him was not Mirabel. It was none other than Jayliah, standing tall with a guitar case slung over her shoulder. “I told you both not to help.”

She steals the cymbals from his arms. Camilo gulped, trying to be his best self. “You’re quiet these days. Is something wrong-“ He cuts the scary Garcia off. “No no! Just uh…busy. Yeah! Haha- How about you? I didn’t peg you for a supportive friend in terms of uh..romance?”

Jayliah shrugs off his weird behavior. “My birthday is on February fourteen. Might as well accept the irony.” 

With that, the chameleon almost dropped the drums. “You’re born on VALENTINE’S DAY?” 

“Unfortunately yes.” She answered, trying not to find Camilo’s reaction stupid. “Can I laugh?” He asked, already wheezing. With a loud pang, she placed the cymbals back to his arms. “OW! YOU EVIL-“

She ignored him, hiking next to her aunt Armani, fixing her hair and all. Out of instinct, he jogged next to her. 

“Stop being grumpy, cupid.” He teased her.

“Stop saying you’re busy when you’re not.”

~☻☹~

—♪♫ Eraserheads - Harana ♫♪

The following day, Mateo lay down on his bed, staring at the ceiling which was lit by the sunset. 

“What a weird day…” He muttered, holding an arepa his father made. It’s a rare occasion that that angry man hands him food without remorse. Apparently, Señor Peréz received a letter from his wife, threatened by “shaving his hair off once she comes home” if he ever mistreated Mateo. 

However, he did not care. Printed photos rested between his fingers, a smile lurking in his lips. “Stupid face…” The photo depicted a tall boy, winking at the camera. 

Then…Tap! Tap! Something hit the window. Confused, Mateo stood up and opened the window. To his surprise, he saw the group there, counting down.

“ONE, TWO, THREE-“ Camilo signalled. “MATEO PEREZ, HAPPY ONE-DAYSARRY!” The tall boy shouted.

There, Armani embraced youth once more, hitting drums like she was born to. The Madrigal cousins dramatically swayed and threw petals in the air, while Jayliah was having too much fun with the electric strings. Behind them, Liliyah and Fernan held the banner saying: “Who cares about the world?? LET’S BE GAY TOGETHER!”

Seconds later, Andres sang—voice genuine, not performing.

“ ‘Wag nang malumbay~ Ang pag-ibig ko ay tunay!” 

Mateo stood frozen, watching the show with an overwhelmed heart. Throughout the song, they held eye contact, Andres only breaking when he spotted Mateo’s father on the other window. He broke the rules, he sent him a cheeky wave, all while singing: “Sabihin man ng ‘yong tatay na wala akong silbi sa buhay!” Señor Perez only sighed and closed his window.

Two idiots, both fooled by the concept of romance, finally met paths. Not as roles, not as expectations, but as themselves. Just Andres and just Mateo.

As the song came to an end, Mateo rushed downstairs, greeting Andres in a bear hug. “Gracias, gracias—“ He mumbled to his shoulder before pulling away, now engulfing his shapeshifter friend too.

“Ay, ‘Teo, stop acting like I did a speech.” Camilo chuckles, patting his back gently. Then, the delighted boy stood in front of the guitarist.

“No.” She glared. “Got it.” Mateo smiles, raising his arms. He thanked Liliyah and Mirabel as well. Lastly, he hovered over the woman in the drums. Who wouldn’t be nervous in front of his crush’s parent?

“S-Señora! I didn’t expect you’d be a cool musician-“ He awkwardly laughed. 

“I approve.” Armani straightly said, and Andres high-fived the air at that. “Hear that? That’s why I’m taking you somewhere tonight.” He nudges Mateo’s arm.

“What? Like right now? I haven’t even freshened up-“

“I don’t care. Let’s go.” The tall Garcia skipped while dragging Mateo with him.

“Wow, not even a thank you?!” Mirabel shouted. And almost immediately, “THANK YOU! SWEET DREAMS FOR EVERYONE!”

Everyone shook their heads in amusement. Then, Camilo speaks. “Uhh…where to next? I’m expecting a celebration.”

“I say Fernan’s studio!” Liliyah suggests, the group nodding except Jayliah, who glanced at her aunt.

Shyly, the shapeshifter approached her. “You coming?” Their eyes connect. And there it was—the tiniest lift on the corner of her lips.

“I’ll follow. I will walk Tita home first.”

Knees? Jelly. Soul? Gone. He was supposed to offer help. But all that he could do was freeze and suffer internally. Confused, Jayliah cleared her throat. “I’ll get going…? Thanks for the dramatic petals, chameleon.”

With that, she walks away, helping Armani with the instruments as they head to Garcia's home.

Once left alone, Mirabel waves a hand in front of him. “Helloooo? ‘Milo?” He shakes his head.

“SHE HAD THE TINIEST SMILE EVER.” He threw his hands up as though announcing a miracle, forgetting the older sister was there.

“What a lovely day it is!” She teased. “Liliyah, I-“

“It’s okay. I won’t tell.”

Groaning, he stomped towards Fernan’s art shop.

…

Meanwhile, Jayliah sets the instruments back down to the cabinet. Armani, standing behind her had a tiny smile.

“It’s yours now.” She said. “What’s mine?” The girl asked. “The guitar.”

She froze, too thankful. “What- Tita, are you sure-?”

“Mhm. I can’t do chords anymore with my hands growing wrinkly.” Armani says.

“Thank you, then.” Jayliah holds the instrument dearly. Suddenly, the woman’s eyes dropped to a sad one. Her niece looked exactly like someone she knew.

“That was your mother’s.” 

Taken aback, Jayliah looks down at the worn-out yet working guitar. “She plays?”

Armani sits on the mattress, a fond expression on her face. “We used to sneak out to play at jazz bars. That’s how she met your father. I was the drummer, sometimes the guitarist, or your mom takes care of that.”

“Amanda…she had the voice of an angel, almost like a lullaby. It’s sad to know she doesn’t appreciate music now…”

Jayliah’s eyes widened. She can’t comprehend how her fuming mother was a musician once. Let alone how music was the reason her parents met. She thought: ‘Father left…is this why she stopped? Because music reminds her of him?’

“I…wished I heard her sing at least.” She mumbles, a heavy weight of a feeling she can’t describe coming in. Armani notices. 

“You deserve that. You helped me feel like a teen today.” She said, now searching for something in her cabinet. Seconds later, a music box rested on her palms.

“I wish I had the voice to lull you to sleep, Jayliah. I may not have Amanda’s beautiful voice, but…I have cared for a daughter—something she can’t do for you. Take this. It’s your lullaby.”

“I- You’re giving me too many things, Tita-“

“No, it’s only because you were never given the chance to receive these, hija.”

Silence. Armani pats her back. “Go to Fernan’s shop now. They’re expecting you there.”

“Okay…”

~☻☹~

Meanwhile, the lovebirds kept trekking beyond the split mountains, intending to reach the river where it all began. Once there, they settled on a nearby rock.

“You know it just hit me.” Andres started, throwing a pebble into the river. “—That magic exists here, literally. I never realized I just brushed off the fact that I’m friends with a shapeshifter.”

Mateo chuckles. “Do you have any idea why?” 

It was silent for a moment, the tall Garcia’s thoughts trailing off somewhere. He looks quiet, at last.

“Maybe it’s because I think nothing would beat the weird family allegations. Like the theories of my grandfather's passing due to murder. It was too suspicious to be called a death caused by illness.” 

“That’s wild! Who’s the killer, then?” Mateo leans in, interested. “Probably my Lola, dude. I mean—her collecting bombs says it all.” He jokes.

“Your family really is something…”

“Mhm. I wish we weren’t though. Never at peace, always fighting, always hiding…I-I really don’t know how Jayliah keeps going after-“ He starts to tear up out of nowhere, remembering a memory that was meant to be buried deep, and it’s not the Gabriel incident. 

“Hey, hey…it’s okay, what about Jayliah?” He gently pats his shoulder. “I can’t tell you about it. It’s too dangerous to be brought back.”

“I understand.” Then, there was a beat of hesitation. But slowly, Mateo placed his jewelled hand atop Andres’. “Whatever’s happening with your family, I promise it won’t happen to us. Not while I’m around. And I swear it on—“ he lifted his hand dramatically “—my most fabulous ring!”

Andres chuckled, “You'd better, peacock boy.” That night, he hadn’t realized how badly he needed a promise like that until it was offered.

“I never thought I’d let myself feel this way again…but I’m glad it’s with you.”

“Good. Because when my mom comes home, I want it to be you I tell her about.”