Work Text:
Marianne Ricalde had been running on hope all day. It wasn’t her usual supplement to pre-quiz brain food, hearty lunch breaks, and sweet treats while en route to the university dorms. But it was a sufficient energy boost nonetheless—fueling her focus, soothing her nerves, and slowing down time (or the narrow pie wedge left of it) before a pivotal moment in her life would just zip past her, and she wouldn’t even get to frame it in her diary.
Hope was Marianne’s holy grail. Be it a sliver or a whopping ton, hope did her onstage endeavors countless favors, as were the borderline ridiculous manifestations that motivated the university’s growing community of singers and musicians.
Anyone Marianne had already sung for could spot the radiant glimmer of positivity in her eyes (the vocal prowess followed, funnily enough) way before college, though. Her impressive grasp on ambition dated back to core memories spanning over a decade. Family gatherings, high school karaoke sessions, and her prized city-wide singing contest feats, immortalized through the newly dusted trophies lined up in her bedroom.
The perpetual high of hope spent so much time in Marianne’s mind, it started to sound like Faith to her. No, not the sacred bastion of devotion, but the cheesy George Michael song burned in the back of her memory after she heard it on The Kitchen Musical. There’s a difference. At first listen, Marianne counted 26 mentions of faith in under three minutes. An admirable effort that made the hymns she grew up with pale in comparison.
Marianne knew this—without an inkling of doubt, of course—thanks to the wise decision of making it her ringtone at the start of freshman year. There was a story for that, she reckoned.
With music, there always was.
The starry-eyed sophomore let the familiar tune summon her back to present times. She was more aware now than ever of yet another “one day turned day one” that her unwavering hope helped bring to fruition. Her first live gig.
And none of her friends showed up to cheer her on.
It all circled back to hope—the bright side. So what if Marianne’s support system wasn’t there at what could be the turning point of her college life? It wasn’t the end of the world. She’d been living alone since she stepped foot on campus grounds, for God’s sake. She knew better than to let her happiness depend on her own cheering squad or expect a parade in her honor for every achievement she reaped.
Besides, it was just at an open-air resto-bar a few blocks from campus grounds. It was no Mall of Asia Arena or Theatre at Solaire. That was reason enough for her friends to prioritize cramming for an oral exam the next day, training for a Saturday track meet, and rehearsing spiels for an org assembly the following week. All perfectly valid excuses, by the way.
Alas, hope defied all logic. And on Marianne’s grounds, it meant tossing her friends’ regretful reasoning out of her waiting room door, banking instead on some miracle that a text buzzed in from them—any of them, even one she just met last month, she didn’t judge—bearing the wonderful news of their prior commitments getting postponed, leaving their weeknight free for her gig.
“Ito na, ito na! Magkaka-audience na ‘ko!” It was always the little things that got Marianne most excited to go onstage—squealing in her swivel chair, nearly knocking her makeup over as she slammed her hands on her vanity table.
Frankly, she could care less about banners, light sticks, and fan chants (for now, at least). The area could be practically barren save for one person she cared so deeply about, and she’d still put on a show fit for a sold-out coliseum. She remembered what she told a professor with her whole chest in freshman year—she’d rather sing for one table of people she’d loved her whole life than for a busy crowd of strangers. Just no empty seats. The humiliation would be unbearable.
But Marianne’s dream audience in question wasn’t quite within her reach yet, as this new notification was just another university-issued memo. “‘Di naman ako eligible sa mga promo ng admin, eh!”
Having experienced probably the quickest adrenaline rush in her life, Marianne sank sluggishly in her seat. She dragged her heart down with her, hearing the insults of sad trombones playing in the background. It was the worst degree of pre-show doubts and inner demons she ever had to silence. The kind that messed with her enough to wonder if she still had time to back out.
Perhaps the knock of pressure on her door could answer her question. “Miss Ricalde, okay ka lang diyan? May kailangan ka ba? You’re on in 15 minutes!”
It was the ever-accommodating Sir Domingo—competent venue manager, revered Music Theory instructor, and org moderator for the university’s musicians’ pool. If you forwent the excessive hair gel and stuffy church uncle get-ups, Sir Domingo was an excellent mentor role model to the school’s Music majors. Marianne, of course, was one of them. She was eternally grateful to him for always believing in her, glitter pen songwriting and all, when it seemed like nobody else did.
“All good po, Sir!” Marianne answered. Hesitation crept up her voice as she gently pushed the door open. “Actually, Sir, puwede pa po bang mag-back out? Sorry kung biglaan, pero ayaw makisama ng pakiramdam ko, eh.” It was the first time Marianne followed through with the negative energy invading her senses.
“Hala, bakit?” Sir Domingo carried the conversation backstage. “Matagal mo nang gustong mag-perform dito, ‘di ba? Sayang naman, full house tayo tonight.”
Pause.
Did Marianne hear that right?
Was she about to perform in front of a crowd of maximum capacity ? The one “reach for the stars” scenario she steered clear of only because she didn’t think it was remotely possible?
Funny how hope always pulled through. Even through utter disbelief, she could sense it. “Oh my God, Sir, are you serious?”
“Why not check it out yourself?” Sir Domingo chuckled, seeing right through Marianne’s fib.
Jitters bubbling up her throat, Marianne approached the stage for a peek at tonight’s sea of college bar-goers who, by the end of the show, were all going to know her name and the vocal powerhouse that came with it. Her heart soared at the thought, escaping the pit of dread it settled in just a while ago.
“I can sense that you wish your friends were here, too,” Sir Domingo said. “But look around you. Ano naman kung wala sila ngayon? It’s the most vibrant this place has been in months kasi lahat sila, pumunta rito to see you. Well, pati ‘yung previous acts, but mostly you! Big-time na ‘yun para sa’kin, ‘no. Congrats!”
“Thanks, Sir,” Marianne sighed in relief.
Sure enough, the place was jam-packed. It buzzed with distant chit-chat over pop songs and bar chow, Cadence Vergara being her usual shroud of darkness in a corner, glass bottles clinking as friend groups shared cheers, Cadence Vergara in a chic, black dress and knee-high boots, sharply put together with pointed shades that awoke the twinkle in her eyes—
Wait a minute. Hold on.
Normally, Marianne’s face would warm up in the final minutes before the spotlight ushered her into a whirlwind of singing her heart out to a well-deserving crowd. But this time, she cradled her cheeks to calm down and they were ice cold. Tonight’s audience didn’t deserve a single note of her voice, and a certain lady in black was to blame.
“She’s here?!” Controlling her urges to curse with every coherent thought she could muster, Marianne turned to Sir Domingo, “Sir, ‘di mo naman po sinabing nandito si Cadence Vergara!”
“Ah, yes, my Externals Vice President,” he nodded knowingly. “Huh, nandito pala siya. Madalas kasi siyang nasa student gigs to source potential talents for future musicians’ pool concerts. Malay mo, baka ikaw ‘yung sunod niyang iimbitahin.”
“Baka ako pa po ‘yung sunod niyang ica-cancel pagkatapos ng set ko, eh. Please, Sir, ayoko pong kumanta sa harap niya! You don’t understand, Cadence hates me!”
And Marianne hated Cadence just as much. A fitting term for a sinister gesture from the condescending upperclassman who put a curse on Marianne’s freshman year.
“At paano mo naman nasabi ‘yun, Miss Ricalde? That’s a pretty hefty accusation.” Sir Domingo furrowed his brows, puzzled.
“Kasi nga po, she rejected my musicians’ pool application ‘nung freshman ako. Eh, since SHS, pangarap ko nang makapasok doon. Sinabi niya po sa’kin, mata sa mata, ‘Ang baduy na nga ng audition mo, ang baduy pa ng music taste mo. Sama mo na rin ‘yung boses mong parang kalapating sinasakal. Kadiri.’ She crushed my chances in her calloused fist. ‘Di ko nga po alam kung ba’t ‘di siya nakarating sa’yo, Sir, eh.”
The trophies Marianne worked day and night for suddenly meant nothing with Cadence in the picture. She imagined them bursting into flames with every mention of her rival’s name.
Marianne almost hurled upon recalling her rejection. Cadence’s harsh words and brash tone still haunted her. To top it all off, she couldn’t even fight back. Cadence had an annoyingly stellar voice. One that Marianne could only describe as the cream of the crop, headlining playbills and movie soundtracks. She had every right to chuck verbal tomatoes at Marianne’s audition. And if anything, she hated herself for thinking so highly of the talent that oozed out of someone so abrasive. Cadence already had backing vocal credits to her name at 18! How could Marianne’s kitschy GarageBand drafts possibly put up against Spotify’s Next Top Artist?
There was a time and place for everything. But right now, with mere minutes left before the performance of a lifetime, was anything but divine timing. Marianne took in the crowd’s infectious energy again, willing every persisting thought of Cadence away until she could guarantee a fruitful recharge in her waiting room.
Colors brought out the liveliest in Marianne’s world, and this resto-bar had heaps of it. Mellow tones of red and pink sat high and mighty by the gaps in the metal roofing above everyone’s heads. Sporadic bursts of light-soaked gold tickled Marianne’s eyes with a welcoming smile, sprinkling their luck on the ribbons in her hair. They glowed. They meshed into this life-sized kaleidoscope of late-night thrills and cityscapes—the last remnants of freedom she expected to find in such a cramped, fast-paced atmosphere.
Marianne drank up every radiant hue she captured. She let them bloom within her, encasing her stage nerves in a soft, sturdy cocoon. Down to her final glances, no color was too glaring for her to take in.
Until she stood face-to-face with a rustic brown. Lined and shaded with the exact roughness of her bedroom floorboards, haunting her with the tranquil stillness of home that only made itself visible whenever her troubled eyes met Cadence Vergara’s.
Cadence’s signature glare of daggers pierced through her shades, trapping Marianne firmly as if the poor sophomore just entered a cobra’s lair. She cracked a can of soda open with one hand (she didn’t even break her gaze, how’d she do that?) and waved menacingly at Marianne with the other. Her wicked grin and slight downward tilt unveiled a sliver of those hypnotizing brown eyes that could might as well turn Marianne to stone.
Let’s just say the end of the world was near. Cadence knew she and Marianne were in the same place now. And the latter was about to make her own presence known the most for the night.
In a flash, Marianne scrambled to hide behind Sir Domingo’s lanky stature. He turned around, consoling her, “Oh, anyare sa’yo, Miss Ricalde? Namumutla ka na. Kailangan mo ba ng tubig? Gamot?”
If it was any consolation, Sir Domingo never expected an explanation for Marianne’s previous claims, no matter how outlandish. He believed her. The gradual decline of his energy was enough evidence of his remorse towards Marianne’s grievance.
“I’m terribly sorry for what Miss Vergara told you, and for letting it get past me,” he added. “I’d be more than happy to schedule a meeting with you and the musicians’ pool’s central board to discuss this further and penalize the officers responsible for your mistreatment. Pero ngayon kasi, kailangan mo nang kumanta. Pasensya na talaga, pero wala na tayong oras para mag-back out. Kayang-kaya mo ‘to, Miss Ricalde. ‘Wag mo munang isipin si Cadence, or your friends. Tonight’s about you, and I know you’re gonna shine.”
A post-pep talk high-five from her favorite professor after was all Marianne needed to regain her focus. She booked it to her waiting room, composed herself, and returned backstage just in time for her cue.
“Now, for our last performer—may mga Music major ba rito ngayong gabi?” came the emcee’s refreshing crowdwork. They received it gleefully with a series of excited squeals and school spirit. Impressed, the hostess continued, “Well, this free-spirited sophomore is ready to bask in her big break. Performing her favorite coming-of-age anthems and two original songs, get ready to open your hearts to the healing voice of Miss Marianne Ricalde!”
That’s my name, the woman of the hour thought. Tell a friend, don’t wear it out. She graced the stage with a giddy spring in her step, proof that even her most brazen higher-ups couldn’t keep a musical storyteller down. Guitar in hand, beaming with passion and pride, Marianne was certain she’d had it in the bag all along.
Now, she just needed to sing.
And boy, had she waited her whole life to do so.
── 𖤓 ──
“I knew you could do it!” Sir Domingo sported an ear-to-ear grin, congratulating Marianne outside the venue. “Never doubted you for a second.”
“Maraming salamat talaga, Sir,” Marianne gushed, face still puffy and cherry red from the tears she shed after her wildly successful gig. “I couldn’t have done it without you!”
“Just you wait. Once your set goes live online, mapupuno na ‘yung email mo with talent bookings and invites. Deserve mo lahat ng success na paparating sa’yo, Miss Ricalde.”
“Thank you for believing in me, Sir. Ingat po pauwi!”
“You’re always welcome. Ingat ka rin, ha? Paano ka pala uuwi—”
“I’ll take it from here, Sir.”
An icy, almost villainous voice emerged from the hazy, dimly lit resto-bar. Goosebumps lined Marianne’s skin. Her cheeks sizzled at all the bells it rang.
As if once wasn’t enough, Marianne found herself eye-to-eye with Cadence again. Luckily, Sir Domingo spared them from the imminent dead air. “Miss Vergara! You’re still here. At mukhang may pag-uusapan pa kayo ni Miss Ricalde. In that case, mauuna na ako. See you both in class!”
The girls bid their goodbyes. A shroud of tension fell on them, nudging their conscience until one of them spoke up.
Fate targeted Cadence first. “Damn, Marianne, were you always that captivating?”
The words didn’t initially register. “Excuse me?”
“Ano, magyayabang ka na ba sa’kin nito? Is this your epic ‘in your face’ moment? Medal, gusto mo?” Cadence scoffed. “Come on, don’t act so clueless. You had the whole place on their feet! I’m surprised you weren’t a trembling mess onstage.”
“Kung nandito ka lang para pagtripan ako, don’t bother. I can’t hear you from all the new fans I have,” Marianne quipped. “Dapat nga, may bodyguards na ‘ko, eh. Para maprotektahan ako from stalkers like you.”
“As if. The only stalkers you have are those ribbons. Ayaw umalis sa buhok mo, eh. Natutulog ka ba nang naka-ganyan? Parang rollers?”
“Umuwi ka na nga, Cadence! Gusto ko nang magpahinga, and that means staying as far away from you as I can.”
“Sige nga, paano ka ba umuuwi? Alam mo ba ‘yung daan?”
“Ano,” Marianne crossed her arms, stumped at Cadence’s sudden questions. “Grab.”
“This late? Times three na ‘yung rates doon. Wala nang laman ‘yung wallet mo niyan.”
“Eh ‘di magta-taxi na lang ako.”
“Halos wala nang dumadaan na taxi at this time.”
“Then I’ll just walk to the train. Teka nga, ba’t ka ba concerned—”
“Hatid na lang kita.”
Marianne’s heart almost dropped to her feet at the speed of a carnival’s sky tower. She swore it skipped a beat or two. Those four words were a miracle to Marianne, who bore the brunt of commuting since high school, but coming from Cadence? They were all Greek to her. A foreign gesture, an offer that emitted a strangely inviting light around them both.
She didn’t even know Cadence drove. “Nagbibiro ka ba? Parang sinabi mo lang ‘yun para asarin ako, eh. Oo na, ako na ‘tong walang kotse. Pasensya ka na, ha.”
“Marianne, puwede ba, I’m not gonna leave you here with a bunch of creeps across the street. Labag sa kalooban ko ‘yun. Look, I won’t say a word in the car unless you do first.”
Try as she might, Marianne could never turn down grace, even from a nuisance to her dreams. With a defeated groan, she let Cadence usher her to her car. The latter guided Marianne to the passenger’s seat and kept her guitar in the trunk before taking the wheel.
Cadence’s car was something Marianne could only wish to have. Suddenly, she was in the shoes of a kid in a toy store. Every seat, window, compartment, and device looked spanking new, almost unused. She could only imagine the sums Cadence had spent on such a pristine ride. “Um… salamat pala, ha.”
“Saan?” Cadence deadpanned, one hand on the steering wheel and the other leaning back with ease. Marianne’s cheeks bloomed red at the sight.
“Y’know… for the ride home. And for the sentiment.”
“Ah, wala ‘yun. I guess I was feeling nice tonight.”
“Ang ironic nga, eh. You sat through my whole set while my friends couldn’t even spare a minute.”
“Wala ‘yung friends mo kanina? They missed your first gig? Damn, you might wanna get new ones, then.”
“Oo na, ‘wag mo nang ipamukha. They had valid reasons, anyway.”
“Pero totoo ba lahat? They could be lying, y’know.”
“And why would they lie to me? We trust each other more than I’ll ever trust you.”
“Aray!” Cadence clutched her chest with her free hand, feigning distress. “I’m just saying, medyo suspicious na walang sumipot sa kanila. Not even one.”
“Malas lang siguro ako,” Marianne sighed deeply. She wished the thought didn’t plague her so heavily.
“‘Di bale. Nandoon naman ako, ‘di ba?” Cadence snickered. Though her eyes were glued to the road, Marianne caught a sly wink under her sleek shades. That elicited a curt yuck from her.
“Ayaw mo bang pasalamatan ‘yung number one fan mo?” Cadence gasped. “Ikaw ha, fame changed you na talaga.”
“Bahala ka sa buhay mo!” Marianne blew a raspberry. Irritated, she scrambled to find a rebuttal until she noticed the car parked by an unfamiliar sidewalk. “Baliw ka ba? This isn’t my house! ‘Di ka ba marunong sumunod sa GPS?! Palibhasa, naka-smart car, wala namang street smarts—”
“Tama ka. Wala pa tayo sa bahay mo. But it’s only two blocks down.”
“Then why are we—”
“You’ll see.”
Without a hint of uncertainty, Cadence hopped out of her car and opened the door for Marianne. She offered a hand, which was comically declined. “Sungit.”
“I heard that,” Marianne caught on immediately.
“Alam ko. Sinadya kong paringgan ka, ‘no.”
Cadence led Marianne to a spacious, homey café with the addicting aroma of freshly baked pastries wafting from inside. They walked into a neat assembly of couches and tables, some occupied with couples and families winding down.
“Profs called off class tomorrow, so I thought we’d have a simple celebration,” Cadence explained. “My treat. Nag-dinner ka na ba?”
Marianne’s heart beat a mile a minute. She turned to Cadence, shaky and devoid of grace, just to make sure she wasn’t pulling her leg.
Then again, free food was free food. “Yeah… ikaw ba? Wait, okay, sino ka at ano’ng ginawa mo kay Cadence Vergara?”
Cadence’s keen glare softened as she took her shades off. She stored them in her bag with a chuckle, “Yes, Marianne, nag-dinner na ‘ko. Upo na nga tayo.”
The two students settled down and confirmed their orders. Marianne couldn’t fathom how easy it was for Cadence to persuade her. She’d never eaten here before, but with Cadence around, it was basically eligible for a Michelin star. Marianne’s eyes darted around the cozy spot, focusing on anything but the woman across the table. “Ganitong-ganito ako kanina… ‘di ako makatingin sa kahit sino.”
“Well, may you look at me now? Please?”
At this point, Cadence held an arsenal of powers in her eyes. There it was again—the beautiful swirls of brown that sent her back home without fail. Marianne didn’t think the word beautiful would reach Cadence so soon.
Their orders came. A blueberry muffin for Cadence and a mug of hot chocolate for Marianne (of course, she didn’t hold the marshmallows). That was Cadence’s cue to come clean at last. “I was wrong about you, Marianne.”
Perplexed, the ribbon-clad woman took a sip of her hot cocoa for some leeway. “Ang sarap, hala… I mean, ba’t mo nasabi?”
Cadence relaxed her shoulders. “Mali ‘yung impression ko sa’yo. Maling-mali. And I want to apologize for everything I said at your musicians’ pool audition—wait, may I?” She stretched out her arm, trying to reach Marianne’s hand.
To say Marianne’s heart swelled while holding Cadence’s hand was an understatement. It rattled against her chest, clawing at every fiber of skin until it soared through. They were the perfect fit, as if the spaces between Cadence’s fingers were tailored for Marianne’s to fill and vice versa. It was a tender, infallibly fond hold, assuring that Cadence meant every single word.
“I’ll be honest, pinanood lang kita at first kasi akala ko, papalpak ka,” Cadence continued, breathing deeply as her comforting eyes held sway over Marianne’s. “I never hated you, Marianne, I could never. But my pride worked overtime. I entertained the thought of you messing up onstage until I heard you sing a second time. Doon ko naintindihan na nagkamali ako, and I’m so, so sorry I can’t undo what I told you in the past. You aren’t just good, Marianne. You’re—you’re bright and passionate, and God, I can’t even talk straight. I’m sorry.”
“Okay lang, ‘no, it’s in the past now,” Marianne smiled, masking the incoming tears. Why were they even there?
“Hindi, eh. Sinaktan kita and that’s not okay. Hindi ka baduy, Marianne. Never kang naging baduy o boses-kalapati sa’kin. Pero aminado ako, nabitaw ko ‘yun because I saw you as a threat... competition, kumbaga. Inggit na inggit ako sa galing mo, eh. Ayokong malamangan and those were the worst things I’ve ever told someone in college.” For Cadence, it stung even more that Marianne would never spew such spiteful words in return. “Sorry talaga, Marianne. That was so unreasonably harsh of me, and I’m sorry.”
“Aamin din ako, Cadence, nasaktan ako sa sinabi mo ‘nun. Pero ako, threat sa’yo? Ano ka ba? The whole reason why I applied sa musicians’ pool was to meet you. Idol kaya kita, are you kidding me? Pangarap ko ngang gumawa ng kanta kasama ka, eh. You’re star power personified and I want us to make our dreams come true together. Matagal na. And that won’t ever change.”
“Ang baduy mo talaga, kahit kailan.”
“Hey!” Marianne smacked Cadence’s arm. “Akala ko ba, ‘di na!”
“Joke lang, ito namang si Sungit. Pero salamat talaga, Marianne. I’m done competing with you. I just wanna sing and write with you hanggang graduation. Kahit pagkatapos pa ‘nun, kung gusto mo. At dahil diyan,” Cadence got off her seat and knelt down on one knee, holding a few giggles back much to Marianne’s and the café’s absolute shock. “We’d love to have you in the musicians’ pool starting this semester. We’ll spend more time together, have karaoke nights, perform our dream duets—it’ll be the most fun we’ll ever have. So, Marianne Ricalde, will you make me the happiest woman in the world and join the musicians’ pool with me?”
Cadence’s impromptu proposal sent Marianne into a laughing fit, revealing an achingly adorable grin that instilled itself in Cadence’s memory. Marianne’s hearty squeals were music to Cadence’s ears. She was in such warm and uplifting company, she could melt.
“Tumayo ka nga diyan!” Marianne pulled Cadence up and into a tight, cheerful hug. She couldn’t remember the last time she was enveloped by this much positivity from one person. “Malamang, sasali ako! Tinatanong pa ba ‘yan? Yes, yes, yes, thank you, thank you, thank you! ‘Wag na tayong mag-away, please!”
Overwhelmed with priceless admiration for her newfound friend (which she admittedly sensed from her, too), Marianne held Cadence close, carrying herself away with a gentle kiss on Cadence’s cheek.
Marianne’s eyes doubled in size, panicking frantically as she kept Cadence in her arms. “Sorry! Sorry, I got carried away. I didn’t—oh, no, may lipstick ka na sa pisngi mo. Sorry for ruining your makeup, too.”
Struggling to keep her own cool, Cadence had the nerve to roll her eyes and claim the upper ground as she kissed Marianne’s forehead. “‘Yan. Now, we’re even. Ano, uwi na tayo?”
Marianne stumbled, unable to hide her chronic shyness as she steadied herself against the taller woman’s chest. “Actually, can we stay like this for a while? Please?”
Cadence wrapped her arms firmly around Marianne, peering down at the shorter woman’s coy and clingy demeanor. She didn’t mind getting used to it, even every day if she must. She smiled softly, her cheeks turning crimson, “Of course we can, Marianne. Of course we can.”