Chapter Text
(Mikha’s POV 🦊)
“Waaaaah!”
“Putanginaaaa!”
“Ayoko naaa!”
Yup. That’s literally my daily playlist for, like, three years straight.
If may award for Best in Pretending I Love My Job, I’d win. Every time.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, being a rollercoaster operator at Enchanted Kingdom isn’t, like, tragic. Pero let’s be honest, hindi rin siya dream job.
At least it pays rent, bills, and my once-a-month milk tea with extra pearls kasi, hello, I deserve it.
My motto lately? Survive now, dream later.
So ayun, every morning same routine:
Wake up at 7, scroll TikTok for, like, 30 minutes, cook pancit canton (sweet and spicy only, duh), kape, shower, motor to EK, clock in at 9.
Uniform, cap, fake smile, then boom — press the Go button all day.
Fun for tourists, boring for me.
Buti na lang may mga baliw akong co-workers.
🐺 Colet: “Good morning mga bading!”
(while checking the seat harnesses and safety locks. Siya yung in charge sa safety before every ride.)
🐱 Stacey: “Good morning mga bading na walang jowa!”
(sabay pa-cute pose, iced coffee in hand, naka-pink scrunchie. Siya yung taga-greet ng guests at nagche-check ng EK passes.)
Ako? Nakasandal lang sa control booth, tahimik, chill, kunwari mysterious type.
Ako yung nag-ooperate ng rollercoaster mismo — the one who hits the start button, the one everyone lowkey blames kapag may sumigaw ng sobra.
May nagsabi sa akin once na “You give poganda energy.” Kaya siguro may mga nagpapapicture kahit di ko naman pinapansin.
After three years, sanay na ako sa lahat ng klase ng pasahero.
May mga barkadang nagtutuksuhan kung sino mauunang sumuka, parents na mas takot pa kaysa sa anak nila, at mga mag-jowang gustong gawing couple goal moment ang Space Shuttle.
Then one Sunday, ayun siya. 🐶
Button-down shirt. Neat slacks. Old money rich tita vibes.
Parang papunta ng business meeting, hindi amusement park.
She lined up, waited, then left.
Okay, fine, maybe natakot. Happens all the time.
Pero next week, andun ulit siya.
Same time. Same spot. Same routine.
Every Sunday. 4 p.m. sharp.
Like, girl, ano bang agenda mo dito?
🐺 Colet: “Hoy 🦊 Mikha.”
🦊 Mikha: “What.”
🐺 Colet: “Kanina ka pa nakatulala diyan. Crush mo na ‘yan no?”
🐱 Stacey: “Ayy si Miss Sunday! ‘Yung girl na laging nakapila pero never sumasakay!”
🐺 Colet: “Mukha siyang taga-BGC na naligaw sa EK. Ay, classy!”
🦊 Mikha: “Pwede ba, ang ingay niyo.”
🐱 Stacey: “Hala defensive! Girl, your eyes are literally simping in HD.”
🐺 Colet: “Kung ako yan, kinausap ko na. Easy.”
🦊 Mikha: “Yeah right. Kaya hanggang ngayon single ka.”
🐺 Colet: “Piskit ka.”
By the fifth week, I kinda anticipated her.
Like clockwork. 4 p.m., andyan na.
Same look, same tote bag, same nervous energy.
So sabi ko, fine, let’s play a little.
Paglapit niya sa gate, nakatayo siya sa harap ng coaster like she’s praying to a saint or something.
I leaned from the booth and said, loud enough for her to hear,
🦊 Mikha: “Miss, roller coaster ‘to ah, hindi altar. Pang-ilang mystery na ba yang dinadasal mo?”
She froze.
As in legit na naglag.
She turned slowly, may glasses, may slight frown.
“Excuse me?”
I smiled a bit. “Fifth Sunday mo na dito, diba? Warm-up ka pa rin?”
“Hindi ako takot,” she said, trying to sound confident but her voice was totally shaking.
“Sure ka? Eh daig ka pa nung seven-year-old kanina, second round na niya ‘to.”
From behind me, narinig ko si 🐱 Stacey sumigaw,
“Mikhs! Go na daw sabi ni 🐺 Colet! Mamaya na yang landi!”
I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh.
The girl tightened her grip sa tote bag niya, then walked away.
Pero bago siya umalis, lumingon siya sandali.
Quick lang, pero sakto para makita ko yung maliit na ngiti sa gilid ng labi niya.
Yung kind of smile na parang, “Okay fine, you got me.”
And honestly? I wanted to see that smile again.
That night, pauwi ako sa motor, I played “First Luv” by BINI sa earphones ko. 🎧
For the first time in months, I caught myself smiling.
Not the fake one, not the service one — just a real, stupid smile.
Kasi that girl who never rides…
somehow made my boring life start spinning again. 🎢