Chapter Text
2:14 AM. Poblacion.
The air was a thick mix of vape juice, expensive perfume, and the sour smell of spilled San Mig Light. Sandrone Dominique Guillotin checked her phone. No new notifications from the one person she actually wanted to annoy.
She took a long drag of her Relx, the minty smoke clouding her vision. Beside her, Scaramouche was arguing with the bouncer about a lost vape, while Arlecchino was busy trying to convince a random girl that her car wasn’t actually double-parked.
"Sandy, stop staring at your lock screen. It’s pathetic," Scaramouche spat, finally giving up on the bouncer.
Sandrone didn't even look at him. "I'm not staring. I'm manifesting her downfall."
[ TWITTER / X ]
Sandrone Dominique @sdguillotin • 2m
imagine being from QC and thinking you have personality lol. the traffic isn’t the only thing that’s stagnant there.
| 💬 12 | 🔁 4 | ❤️ 89 |
2:20 AM. The Pop Up, Katipunan.
Columbina Estelle Hyposelenia laughed as Varka spilled tequila on his shirt for the third time. She wasn't really having fun; she was just performing. She looked down at her phone, the blue light illuminating her pale, "BGC-ready" face.
She saw the notification. Classic Sandy.
"Nefer, look," Columbina nudged her friend, showing the tweet. "The Taft girl is barking again. Must be the smog getting to her brain."
"Are you gonna reply?" Nefer asked, adjusting her glasses.
"Better," Columbina smirked. She opened Instagram.
[ INSTAGRAM STORY ]
hyposelene 1m
(Photo: A blurry, aesthetic shot of a half-empty tequila bottle with a Katipunan geotag.)
Caption: "Better air up here. Some people are just stuck in the South and it shows. 🕊️✨"
They met three months ago at a music festival in Circuit Makati. It was supposed to be a one-night thing—a "Taft meets Katipunan" crossover that nobody asked for. But Sandrone liked the way Columbina looked at her like she was a project, and Columbina liked that Sandrone was the only person who didn't fall for her "angelic" Psych-major act. They aren't dating. They aren't even "talking." They are in a state of constant psychological warfare.
[ iMessage ]
Sandy:
R u dead or just ignoring me?
Because if you're dead, tell the funeral parlor to use a better filter for your wake photo.
Bina:
wow.
kakagising ko lang from a nap.
unlike u, i actually study for my majors.
bakit, miss mo na ko?
Sandy:
In your dreams, Hyposelenia.
I’m at Pob.
The girls here are actually hot.
Bina:
Then go home with one of them.
Why are u texting me?
Wala bang pumapansin sayo dyan? :(
Poor Sandy.
Sandy:
Shut up.
Grab to my condo? I’ll pay.
Bina:
Taft?
Eww.
The Grab fare is literally 800 pesos.
Tsaka EDSA is a nightmare right now.
I'm not crossing the border for a 7/10 experience.
Sandy:
7/10?
Funny. That’s not what you said last Tuesday when you were crying in my car.
Bina:
I was drunk.
And it was raining.
I was vulnerable, Sandrone.
Don't use my Psych terms against me.
Sandrone stared at the "Typing..." bubble. She knew Columbina was doing this on purpose. The "I’m too busy/Katipunan is too far" excuse was a classic move to make Sandrone drive all the way to the North.
Sandrone hated the North. She hated the U-turns, she hated the "peaceful" vibes of UP Village, and she especially hated the way Columbina’s friends looked at her like she was a stray cat from the slums of Manila.
"Guys, let’s go," Sandrone suddenly stood up, grabbing her bag.
"Saan? It's 2:30 AM," Aether asked, confused. "We just got another bucket."
"Katipunan," Sandrone said, her eyes cold. "I need to remind someone that she’s not as unreachable as she thinks she is."
[ TWITTER / X ]
Columbina Estelle @hyposelene • 5m
gaslighting is a choice, but being obsessed with me is a lifestyle. choose wisely. 💅
Sandrone Dominique @sdguillotin • 1m
Replying to @hyposelene
check your lobby in 45 mins. and bring a sweater. your personality is cold enough, you don't need the breeze.
When Sandrone’s white sedan pulled up in front of Columbina’s condo, she saw her. Columbina was leaning against the glass door, wearing an oversized ADMU hoodie, looking exactly like the "unbothered" girl she pretended to be.
Sandrone rolled down the window. The humidity of Quezon City hit her instantly.
"You actually came," Columbina said, walking toward the car. She had a smug smile that made Sandrone want to kiss her and scream at her at the same time.
"I had nothing better to do," Sandrone lied. "And you owe me for the gas. EDSA is a literal hellhole."
"Then why do you keep crossing it, Sandy?" Columbina leaned in, her face inches away from Sandrone's. She smelled like mint and expensive toner. "Is it the thrill? Or are you just that desperate for a toxic Psych major to ruin your life?"
Sandrone gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. "Get in the car, Bina. Before I change my mind and leave you in this godforsaken traffic-trap."
Columbina didn't move. She just pulled out her phone and took a mirrored selfie using the car's window.
"Wait, let me post this first," Columbina giggled. "The followers need to know that the DLSU girl is simp-ing again."
"I hate you," Sandrone muttered, unlocking the door.
"I know," Columbina replied, sliding into the passenger seat. "That’s why you’re here."
3:14 AM. C5 Road (Somewhere near Eastwood).
The silence inside the car was louder than the engine. The only sound was the clicking of Columbina’s long nails against her iPhone screen. She was busy "soft-launching" their toxic rendezvous—a photo of Sandrone’s hand on the gear stick, intentionally blurred, with the caption: “Border patrol. 🚧”
Sandrone glanced at the dashboard. "Delete that."
"Bakit? Hindi naman kita tinag," Columbina replied, not looking up. "Tsaka, you should be honored. My engagement goes up whenever people think I’m seeing someone from the 'other side.'"
"I’m not a tourist attraction, Bina," Sandrone hissed, swerving slightly to avoid a pothole. "And don't act like you're doing me a favor. You're the one who messaged me first last night."
"Actually, checking my logs... you replied to my story within 30 seconds. That’s a bit fast for someone who 'doesn't care,' don't you think?"
[ TWITTER / X ]
Sandrone Dominique @sdguillotin • 2m
overrated: people who make being a psych major their entire personality just to justify being a manipulative prick.
Lauma @laumaxoxo • 1m
Replying to @sdguillotin
someone’s pressed. did the C5 traffic hurt your feelings or is it just the ego? 🤭
Scara @balladeer_ • 45s
Replying to @sdguillotin
u literally drove to QC at 3am. u lost the plot, sandy. block her and go to sleep.
Sandrone pulled into a 7-Eleven along the way. She needed caffeine, or maybe just a reason to stop looking at Columbina’s smug face.
"Get me a big bite and a Pocari," Columbina said, not even looking up from her phone.
"May kamay ka," Sandrone snapped.
"But you’re already going down. Plus, you’re the one who dragged me out of my bed. Consider it a convenience fee."
Sandrone slammed the car door. Inside the brightly lit convenience store, she took a deep breath. She knew what this was. This was the cycle. They’d fight, they’d post shady tweets, they’d meet up in the middle of the night, and they’d pretend it didn't mean anything.
When she got back to the car, she threw the plastic bag onto Columbina’s lap.
"Gentle naman, Sandy," Columbina teased, finally putting her phone away. She opened the bag. "So... are we going to your place or are we just going to park somewhere and talk about how much we hate each other?"
"I’m dropping you off at a motel," Sandrone joked, though her voice lacked the edge it had earlier.
"You wouldn't. Too much of a 'gentlewoman' for that," Columbina leaned over, her hair brushing against Sandrone’s shoulder. "You like the drama, Sandy. You like that I’m the only one who doesn't follow your 'cool girl' script."
"I like the way you shut up when you're eating," Sandrone countered, but she didn't move away.
By the time they reached Sandrone’s condo in Taft, the sun was almost peeking through the smog of the Manila skyline. The unit was minimalist—too clean, too cold—exactly like Sandrone.
Columbina immediately made herself at home, kicking off her shoes and crashing onto the designer sofa.
"Your place smells like espresso and regret," Columbina remarked, checking her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window.
"And you smell like Katipunan pretentiousness. We’re even," Sandrone said, shedding her leather jacket.
She sat on the other end of the sofa, watching Columbina. This was the "red flag" peak: the moment where they both knew they should leave, but the toxicity felt more like home than peace ever could.
"Bina," Sandrone called out softly.
"Hmm?"
"If I see another tweet about 'Taft girls' being obsessed with you, I’m changing the passcode to the unit."
Columbina turned her head, a slow, predatory grin spreading across her lips. She crawled across the sofa, stopping just inches from Sandrone's face.
"You won't," Columbina whispered, her voice a mix of honey and venom. "Because then who would you have to fight with at 4 AM? Your circle of friends who are all afraid of you? Or your reflection?"
Sandrone grabbed Columbina’s chin, forcing her to look her in the eye. "You think you’re so smart because you can read people. But you’re just as broken as I am, Estelle. You just hide it behind 'light academia' filters."
"Maybe," Columbina shrugged, not pulling away. "But at least my filters look good on the grid. Yours are just... dark."
[ INSTAGRAM / CLOSE FRIENDS ONLY ]
hyposelene 32s
(Photo: A shot of the Manila Bay sunrise from a high-rise balcony. A blurred figure—clearly Sandrone—is visible in the background, making coffee. Caption: "Boundary crossed. Again. 🚩")
[ iMessage ]
Arlecchino:
Are you home? Scara is asking. He says if you're with that Psych girl again, he's removing you from the group chat for 24 hours as a 'mental health break' for us.
Sandrone:
Tell him to mind his own business.
I’m just... observing human behavior.
Arlecchino:
Sure, Sandrone.
Observing.
Is that what we're calling it now?
Don't come crying to us when she gaslights you into thinking the earth is flat.
Sandrone:
Too late.
I think I’m already falling for the flat earth theory.
4:45 AM.
They were both on their phones, sitting on the same bed, not speaking. Sandrone was scrolling through LinkedIn to look productive, while Columbina was checking who viewed her Close Friends story.
It was peak Manila toxicity. they are together, but completely alone in their own digital worlds, waiting for the next spark to start another fire.
"Sandy?"
"What?"
"Don't forget to send me the GCash for the Grab I took earlier. I'm a student, I'm on a budget."
Sandrone rolled her eyes, but she sent 1,000 pesos anyway. "The extra is for you to buy a personality that isn't based on TikTok trends."
"Thanks, baby," Columbina chirped, finally putting her phone on 'Do Not Disturb.' "I'll use it to buy more red flags. I heard they're in season.
To be continued…