Chapter Text
It was a cool evening. There was a light breeze flowing into the grand foyer. There was the clink of glasses and the hum of people chatting in the background. Mon was at a gala with friends, acquaintances, and a whole lot of strangers.
The foundation they're involved with had this quirky auction every year. The highest bidder snags a date with the person auctioned. The gimmick has been proven to be effective in luring in funds. The auction is open to everyone who wanted to participate. The proceeds go to charity. He had his turn in the roster during the previous year. The bid for him was won by a college senior, who apparently started saving up money just to join when she learned she was invited to event. She had her friends with her and they cheered her on when she went up and claimed her prize. She stated that she had no regrets because she was contributing for a good cause. And that she gets to have a great date out of it. The date was fun. And seeing how happy his date was, eradicated what little annoyance he had for the whole thing. Even made him pay for the date, even if it was already prepaid... The expense was added to the charity proceeds.
This year, Epy was chosen. And, His eyes went around the room as he took a swig of his drink. He found Epy, and saw him with all sorts of people fluttering around him... Epy was dressed in a gray suit, a cream-colored shirt and a pale blue tie. Oh boy... The ladies are abuzz. Women always had their eyes on Epy. He was a looker, after all. His personality was what makes them gravitate toward him, though... He was a warm person. Approachable. Kind. He seems jolly and jovial, but he was a serious guy. He knows that from all their talks over coffee and booze. Hanging out...
And, well. What do you know... Alvin was just around the corner. Ugh. Alvin.
He was his friend. But recent developments made him really uncomfortable with the guy's presence. Whenever Epy was also around, that is. He groaned and took another gulp as he saw the tall, midnight blue-clad figure walk toward him.
"Hey." Alvin spoke up as he nodded at Mon in greeting.
"Hey..."
"Lots of eyes on the prize. Looks like there is gonna be a lot of bidders tonight... "
Mon smirked and pointedly looked at Epy. "Well, can't blame 'em."
"Can't indeed..."
Mon wanted to smack the guy on the back of his head. He knew Alvin liked Epy. And he did too. Which made everything unbearable. Like an itch that you just wanted a skin graft to get the shit over with. They were aware they had the same object of affection. There was a silent competition that had been going on. Looks and glares had been shot and fired. It was almost surprising that Epy has not intervened yet. He should be onto what was going on by now. Mon was also pretty sure there was something between the two of them. Or maybe he was just an idiot who was reading into Epy's actions too much. They've been hanging out alone often, even before he developed feelings for him, after all...
"Planning to be one of the bidders?" Mon blurted out.
Alvin smiled and cocked an eyebrow. "What's it to you?"
"Where's the answer to the question?" Mon retaliated. Even if he knew. Alvin is going to bid. His stomach churns at the thought. Or maybe that was just the scotch. He hasn't really filled up on the hors d'oeuvres. He only had about 3 pieces of those tiny, ridiculous appetizers. He already had about two scotch and sodas.
Barking out a small laugh, Alvin grinned. Shrugging, as he turned and walked away.
"Tangina..." Mon wanted to throw his glass on the ground. But it would be a shame to ruin the nice, red carpet. Although, it would get him less trouble than smashing it against the head of the man who just walked away... Looks like he has to slow down on the fire water. Lest he get into trouble tonight. He knew that was where he was headed, though. He knew it in his gut.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As he reached enough distance, Alvin looked over his shoulder to see Mon retreating to a corner and pointedly glowering at the floor. His grip tightening around his glass. Somehow he wasn't so sure if he made things better in his favor, or worse. He wasn't originally going to push with it. But seeing how Mon is reacting to the possibility felt worth it. The look on the man's face right now was priceless. A small victory, in his part. But he knew he might drive Mon over the edge too. Somehow, it was a great opportunity for himself... He'd been trying to tone it down. Both for his and Mon's benefit. Because they didn't want to drive Epy away. There had never been an all-out war. Maybe if he won this round... Where they would end up finally shedding light to Epy about how they both felt for him... He could see if he really did have a chance.
He dreaded it. But he knew there was already sparks between the two. That was his disadvantage. But sparks be damned, it wasn't a flame yet. He could still easily put it out. At this point he wanted to smother it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Abashed, Epy was sure his face was pink. So close to the main event, he was regretting saying yes to it. Sure, it was for a good cause... But it was still embarassing. All eyes would be on him. And with a purpose too. To win him as a date for a night. He had no idea how Mon handled this last year. But then, sometimes that guy can be a rock. Multi-faceted... Stern... Steady. Push him hard enough, and he will crush you.
The emcee took the stage and proceeded with the program. The stagelights were bright and blinding. He was used to it. But somewhat, tonight, he was acutely aware of how the light seems to burn right into his retinas as he stood in the corner. Lots of eyes on him. Smiles on most of the faces. Expressions of anticipation...
"And now, as the finale of our auction tonight, we have Mr. Quizon."
Epy walked towards the middle of the stage. There was some cheering and whooping.
"I know a lot of you have been anticipating this. So we're gonna skip all the stuff and get right to it. You guys know the drill. Alright. Bid starts at five thousand... Do we have five thousand?" The emcee announced.
A woman with brown hair in a nice up-do and a low-cut blue dress raised her paddle.
"Five! Do we have six?"
At that cue, a woman in dark green responded.
"Six thousand! Do we have seven? Seven five?"
"Seven five." A woman in red responded.
"Alright. Eight?"
"Eight." Quickly entered the woman in blue.
"Eight-five? Do we have eight-five? Nine?"
"Ten thousand." A deep voice shouted out.
Alvin. That voice was Alvin's. Epy recognized his voice and started to look for the man amongst the crowd. He found him at the back row. His glasses gave a gleam as the crowd got their attention back to the stage.
This was ridiculous, Epy thought. His friend was just probably doing that to raise the winning bid.
The silence was broken by the emcee. "Ah... Umm, Ten. We have ten. Do we have eleven?... Eleven."
"Eleven."
"Alright. We have eleven. Do we have twelve---"
"Wait." All heads whipped at Mon's direction. He was half frowning as he raised a paddle. "Fifteen thousand."
What. In. The. Actual. Fxck.
Almost everyone whipped their head towards Mon's direction. He seemed to ignore all the gaping looks as he took a drink from the crystal flute he was holding. The light, bubbling, golden fluid in it was reduced in half when he was done.
At that, the emcee recovered and spoke up after clearing her throat. "Well. Wow. Fifteen. Do we have sixteen?"
"Sixteen." It was the woman in blue. She looked a little unnerved by the development. The silence that befell the crowd seemed to amplify all the focus on the running auction.
"Seventeen." Alvin bid again.
Epy wanted to shout at the two to make them cut this lunacy off. But he was too stunned to do anything. He felt cold. He was tense as fxck. It was as if his feet were nailed to the stage and encased in blocks of ice. He could not wrap his head around why his friends were doing this. Right here. Right now. Because this was nuts.
"Okay. E---"
"Eighteen-five." The lady in red challenged.
"Twenty." Alvin sternly
What the damned hell--- Anong pinag-gagawa ng mga gagong 'to---?
"Twenty-five." Mon nonchalantly raised his paddle and finished his drink. Placing the glass on the tray that the server near him held-out...
At that, he saw the lady in red sigh. And Alvin shooting a glare at Mon. Mon straightened up as he steadily held his paddle up whilst he put his free hand in his pocket. The emcee's eyes bugged out. All eyes were on Mon. He was pretty sure his own eyes were about to roll down into the floor. Like the marbles his brain was turning into. Because this shit is crazy.
Mon raised an eyebrow as he looked directly at the emcee.
"Oh. Yeah. So. Twenty-five?" The emcee scanned the crowd as low murmurs rose. Sending a look at Alvin and the Lady. Alvin gently shook his head. "...going once? Going twice? Sold. Mr. Confiado wins the bid."
Mon got up, strode across the room and went up the stage. He was an imposing figure. Dressed in a charcoal gray suit, a black silk shirt, maroon tie, and the expression on his face that gave nothing away. He reached as the emcee handed him the envelope containing the card of congratulations and the details of the prize. "Congratulations, Mr. Confiado." He accepted the envelope and tucked it into the inner pocket of his coat. As the woman made a move to shake his hand, Mon turned and grabbed Epy's hand and walked off the stage.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~