CHAPTER 1: NAPKIN WITH WINGS

“Love is a manipulation of feelings.”

Perhaps that is why so many people continue to hold on to someone who keeps hurting them. Why? Because even after causing pain to the person who loves them, some people know how to disguise their mistakes with pretended affection. They blind their partners with sweet words, shower them with promises, and make everything seem fine again. And just like that, the cycle continues. Maybe that is why so many relationships fall apart because of a third party, whether the people involved are married or simply dating.

Love is such a beautiful word to those who have experienced a fairytale romance. But for those who have loved sincerely and never been given the chance to express or show the true depth of their feelings, love can be painful as hell.

The word love means different things to different people. For some, it is beautiful, colorful, and full of wonderful possibilities. For others, it is nothing more than a bitter word associated with heartbreak, disappointment, and all the things they wish had turned out differently.

So, what about you?

How would you define love?

How can you be sure that what you feel is genuine?

And how much are you willing to sacrifice for the person you love?

This is a seemingly familiar story about two people who define love in different ways. They may see it differently, believe in it differently, and express it differently—but when love hurts, the pain can be just as real for both of them.

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[December 23, 2021]

“Do you think we’ll still be like this after we graduate from college?” I asked him.

It was nighttime. We were lying on my bedroom floor, the window wide open as we gazed at the millions of stars scattered across the sky.

“Of course. As long as nothing changes. You’re the only one here with a screw loose,” Gino replied, letting out an annoyingly smug chuckle.

“Hehe!” I laughed sarcastically at his brilliant answer.

My name is Steph Dela Fuerte. I’m twenty-two years old, a Mass Communication student, and currently in the company of Gino Reyes—my, well, as embarrassing as it is to admit, best friend.

For how long, exactly?

Wait. How many years has it been?

Whatever. All I know is that this idiot has been my friend since kindergarten. Sometimes, I even wonder if he was already waiting for me to be born while I was still in my mother’s womb, just so he could spend the rest of my life making it a living hell.

He’s a year older than me, a fourth-year Food Technology student, and, according to practically everyone who lays eyes on him, ridiculously handsome.

Tall. Fair-skinned. Always smiling. Well-dressed.

And his most irritating quality?

He’s friendly.

Now, there’s nothing wrong with being friendly. But seriously? This guy has absolutely no standards when it comes to making friends! I mean, okay, maybe I sound a little possessive, but can you blame me? He’s friends with almost every girl I know, yet he can’t even be bothered to properly introduce me to his own circle of friends.

Tsk. As if he’d ever do that.

Oh, wait! I just remembered something.

He actually introduced me to his friends once when I accidentally ran into him at the mall.

And do you know how he introduced me?

Tsk. Let me tell you.

[THROWBACK]

* SHOPPING MALL*

“Hey!”

I suddenly popped up behind him.

I had been browsing the jeans section while he was over by the sneakers with four of his friends.

P.S. He was filming them while they shopped.

I immediately walked over to where he was holding his phone and waved at the camera. He frowned before lowering it.

“Wow, look at you!” I said. “If my friends hadn’t invited me here, I wouldn’t have known you were even around. And what happened to ‘I’m tired,Bes. Bring someone else instead’? Huh? And what the hell? Who's this in front of me?”

He merely scratched his head in response.

And, of course, being the polite young woman that I was—despite my sharp tongue—I took a moment to introduce him to my companions.

Yes, I introduced him to every single one of them.

They greeted him with smiles and friendly hellos.

Then I turned to Gino.

“So? Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends? Best friend?” I asked, deliberately emphasizing the last two words.

“Did I ask you to introduce me to your friends?” he shot back.

And just like that, a flying smack landed on his head.

Yes, I smacked him.

And yes, he was six feet tall while I was barely five-foot-four.

So what?

He shot me a murderous glare. Unfortunately for him, my little stunt had already caught the attention of his friends.

He let out a deep sigh before abruptly turning me toward them. Then, in the most lifeless voice imaginable, he said, “These are my companions.”

That was it.

My companions.

He said it just loud enough for them to hear before turning me back toward him.

I didn’t even get to see whether they smiled or waved because he had already turned me away.

Seriously?

“Why are you here, anyway?” he asked, raising an eyebrow with one hand resting on his hip.

“Nothing much. Just window-shopping,” I answered cheerfully.

“Then why are you with a guy? Who is he? Your admirer?”

He sounded thoroughly unimpressed.

“No, boss. He’s just my classmate. Why? Do you think he likes me?” I asked, suddenly intrigued.

Instead of answering, Gino grabbed my hand and dragged me toward Liam.

Yes. Dragged.

“Do you like my best friend?” he asked Liam without the slightest warning.

I nearly choked on air.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one shocked by the question. Liam looked just as startled as I felt.

“W-well... n-no,” he stammered.

Gino merely nodded, looking far too pleased with himself.

Because of the ridiculous stunt my best friend had just pulled, I quickly apologized to Liam before dragging Gino away from his friends.

“What was that for?! You embarrassed me!” I snapped, tightening my grip on his hand.

He acted as though nothing had happened.

“Nothing. I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t get a boyfriend anytime soon.”

I stopped walking.

Excuse me?

Before I could question him, he continued, “Come on. Go home. I’ll buy whatever you came here for. What was it, anyway?”

And then he dragged me back toward his friends.

Honestly, he was getting far too comfortable pulling me around like that. What did he think I was? A goat?!

Good grief.

“So, what are you buying?” he asked when we reached his friends again. “Just tell me.”

“I can buy it myself. We’re going to look around for a while.”

“No need. I’ll get it for you. If they’re going to be here for a while, you can just go home first. Come on.”

Before I could protest, he grabbed my hand again and guided me toward the exit.

The next thing I knew, I was already sitting inside a taxi.

“The nerve of you!” I shouted at him through the open window.

“I’m not doing anything wrong! Just text me what you want me to buy!”

“Buy me napkins with wings!”

I yelled it so loudly that practically everyone nearby turned to look at us, including two mall security guards.

“What?” he asked, clearly struggling to process what I had just said.

“I SAID, BUY ME SANITARY PADS! WITH WINGS, OKAY?!”

That did it.

Everyone who heard me burst out laughing.

Gino started walking back toward the taxi, probably intending to ask me what on earth was wrong with me, but I immediately told the driver to leave.

“Let;s go! Go, go, go!”

And off we went.

Through the window, I caught one last glimpse of Gino standing there, his entire face turning red with embarrassment.

I could practically hear his dignity crumbling from a distance.

Well, good for him.

He sent me home, so he deserved to suffer.

(Evil smile.)

---

Back to the present.

“Do you think I’ll succeed as a writer?” I asked again, my eyes still fixed on the stars.

“It depends on you,” he answered.

His response made me sit up and turn toward him.

“Why does it depends on me?”

“Do you know what kinds of stories are popular these days?” he asked, answering my question with another question.

“Hmm... love stories?” I guessed.

“Bingo! Romance and erotic stories are popular. So here’s my question: do you know how to write those kinds of stories?”

I fell silent, thinking hard about it.

“Oh, don’t bother thinking too much. You’re not going to come up with anything sensible anyway,” he interrupted.

“Wow. You’re so harsh! Do you even realize that?” I shot back.

“Truth hurts, as they say. Besides, I’m not wrong, am I? I’m just telling you the truth. How can you write romance or erotic  if you don’t even know what those things are like?”

“Seriously? You really enjoy picking on me, don’t you?” I grumbled, pouting before lying back down.

I grabbed a pillow and hugged it to my chest.

“You’re hurting my feelings,” I added.

“That’s not my intention, bestie.” His voice softened just a little. “But think about it. How are you going to describe a kissing scene? Or worse, a bedroom scene?”

He paused dramatically, as though he were about to deliver the most profound speech in human history.

“According to one of the greatest philosophers of all time—and by that, I mean your one and only best friend—” He pointed proudly at himself. “You can’t give what you don’t have.”

He grinned.

I had to admit, he had a point.

“Yeah, you’re right,” I said before I could stop myself.

“I know, right? And that’s exactly why you shouldn’t waste time thinking too hard. You’ll only end up asking me for help anyway.”

That was the last straw.

I grabbed the pillow and slapped it over his face.

Seriously, with a brain that ridiculously smart, I was tempted to end his life.

Just kidding.