Kabanata 1

Trash

“Stella, dear.” Si Tito Max ay nakipag-beso sa’kin.

Hinawakan niya ang magkabila kong balikat at pinasadahan ako ng tingin—mula ulo hanggang paa. Habang takang-taka akong tumingin sa mga mata niya, umawang ang mga labi niya at umiling.

“There’s something wrong with you.” Iling-iling niyang wika sa akin.

“You’re glowing differently, dear… did you have sex?”

Halos masamid ako sa sariling laway sa binulong niya sakin.

My eyes narrowed at him.

“Tito Max! Ano bang sinasabi mo? Matagal na akong maganda.”

Tumawa siya sa’kin at sumunod sa dressing room ko.

“Oh, dear. Nasa tamang edad ka na naman. What’s wrong with talking about your sex life? Tell me… how was it? Malaki ba? Was that man good in bed? O baka naman… jutay ang isang ’yon.”

“But that’s fine! Performance is all that matters… as long as he can satisfy you. Dedma sa size!” wika ni Tito Max na parang wala lang ’yon.

Umupo siya sa maliit na couch dito sa loob ng dressing room ko. Pinagkrus niya ang kanyang mga binti habang ako naman ay nagsimula nang ayusin ang sarili. Kahit noong baguhan pa lang ako sa pagmomodelo, ako na talaga ang nag-aayos sa sarili ko. Si Tito Max ang manager ko; siya rin ang nag-aassist sakin kapag kailangan kong mag-retouch. Siya rin ang humahawak ng schedule ko.

Nagkatitigan kaming dalawa ni Tito Max sa salamin. Napailing na lamang ako at nagpakawala ng isang malalim na buntong-hininga bago hinarap siya.

“It was… Lisandro… we had sex,” tila bulong sa hangin ani ko.

Napatayo si Tito Max.

“What?! You had sex with Lisandro Constanzo?!” Sa lakas ng boses ni Tito Max, panigurado hindi lang kami ang nakarinig sa kanyang sinabi. Mabilis akong lumapit sa kanya at tinakpan ang kanyang bibig. Uminit ang pisngi ko sa hiya.

“Kamusta naman? Malaki ba? Kung irate mo ang performance ni Lisandro sa kama, from 1 to 10, ilan?”

Pakiramdam ko lahat ng dugo ko ay umakyat na ngayon sa mukha ko.

“He’s huge, Tito Max, and he’s so good in bed.” Nahihiya kong sinabi. “He’s like a god in bed… he knows exactly how to take control, how to make you beg. He doesn’t ask, he takes. He’s… dangerous. And I like it. I crave it,” dagdag ko pa, barely above a whisper.

Pinanlakihan ako ni Tito Max ng mata, bago pumalakpak sa akin.

“I knew it! Sabi na nga ba iba ang glow ng inaanak ko kasi nadiligan siya! At kanina ko pa rin napansin ika-ika ka maglakad!”

Umirap ako sa kanya.

“Tito Max!”

“Uhm, how was your performance naman?”

Hindi ko alam. I’d never done it before. I was a virgin, and yet… I gave myself to him so easily. Maybe because he reminded me of something I never had.

A father figure. A protector.

Or maybe I just wanted someone older to ruin me, the way no boy my age ever could.

“Did you give him a good bj?”

Kumunot ang noo ko sa kanyang huling sinabi.

“Bj?”

“Blowjob! Don’t tell me you didn’t give him a good bj? Next time you better give him one! Hindi lang dapat ikaw ang nasa-satisfy, dapat siya rin!” Tito Max exclaimed dramatically. “You know I taught your mama how to give the best bj, and your papa became crazy about it… kaya kung gusto mong mabaliw sayo si Lisandro, you better give him the best bj he could ever experience.”

“Satisfy him more than he has satisfied you, dear.” Tito Max smirked at me.

“Don’t worry, reregaluhan kita ng dildong pwede mong pag-practican!”

“Oh siya, maupo ka na ulit dito. Ako na ang magtutuloy ng makeup mo at mag-aayos ng buhok mo,” dagdag niya pa.

Habang abala si Tito Max sa pag-aayos ng buhok ko, palihim kong kinuha ang cellphone at nag-search. Uminit ang pisngi ko sa mga nakita at nabasa:

How to give the best blowjob?

Tips for beginners:

Start slow, tease him with your tongue. Let him feel every breath you take, every little sound you make. Gamitin ang dila at labi mo sa bawat pulgada niya, and don’t forget your hands—wrap them around the base, match the rhythm. Watch his face, feel his body, and let him know you want this as much as he does. The wetter, the better. Make it messy. Make it unforgettable.

How do I satisfy a man in bed?

Explore what he likes. Build the tension. Gamitin ang katawan mo para akitin siya—soft touches, eye contact, small moans. Be confident, be eager. A man doesn’t just want pleasure—he wants to feel desired.

Napakagat ako sa labi habang binabasa ko. Napapikit ako sandali.

I smirked to myself, the fire inside growing.

Huh… just wait, Lisandro. Babaliwin din kita sa kama.

I’ll satisfy you more than you ever thought possible, I thought, craving that control, that approval—

 —the kind only a man like him could give.

Because deep down, it wasn’t just lust.

I was starving for validation.

For someone stronger, older, more dangerous…

To look me in the eye and say,

“You’re mine.”

Nag-scroll pa ako, binabasa ang iba’t ibang artikulo habang pinipigilan ang init sa pisngi ko. Mabilis kong tinago ang telepono nang may kumatok sa dressing room ko. Bumukas ang pinto at pumasok ang isang staff.

"Miss Stella, mag-start na po tayo in 10 minutes," sabi niya bago lumabas.

Tumango ako at tipid na ngumiti. Pero ang utak ko, wala roon. Bumalik na naman sa kanya.

Lisandro said he has a wife.

But I never saw a ring.

Not once, in the almost two years that I’d watched him from a distance—admired him, fantasized about him, craved him.

I never saw her.

Maybe he said it just to keep me away.

But it didn’t work.

It only made me want him more.

To love him.

To be chosen by him.

To be claimed.

My therapist told me I’m chasing something I never had—something taken from me before I even had a chance to understand what it meant.

My father died before I was born.

I never saw his face, never heard his voice, never felt the safety of being held or protected by him.

I grew up with a hollow space where he should’ve been.

That emptiness carved into my heart, leaving a silent ache I didn’t know how to name.

She said what I feel is common for girls like me—girls who grow up without a father figure.

It’s not just a craving for love. It’s a deep hunger for validation, for approval, for someone stronger to say, “You matter.”

It’s needing safety, control, and belonging.

I want to be seen and chosen by someone older—someone who feels like the missing piece of my broken puzzle.

People call it a “daddy issue” like it’s just some flaw, some weakness.

But for me, it’s raw grief.

It’s an endless search for a father’s love I never got.

It’s why I’m drawn to men like Lisandro—ruthless, dominant, distant—because I believe if I can break through him, if I can be enough for him, then maybe I can fill that empty space inside.

It’s not just about sex. Not really.

It’s about needing to hear the words I never heard growing up: “You’re mine. I won’t leave you.”

Maybe all I’ve ever wanted was permanence.

Security.

A place where I finally belong.

After my shoot for an exclusive magazine, I drove straight to his office—at their company. Sandali lang naman iyon natapos dahil hindi rin naman ako baguhan na sa pagmomodelo. I started modeling when I was 18 years old, and now I'm 25. 

Mama was the highest-paid model before, and even now, everyone still praises her beauty. My mama is the epitome of beauty and seduction, and I inherited my looks from her.

Sabi nila ako raw ang kamukha ni mama, habang si kuya naman ang kamukha ng aming papa. I never met or even caught a glimpse of our father... I don’t have the faintest memory of him, unlike Kuya. 

Our papa died even before I was born. He was shot dead by my mama's abuser and stalker. He was murdered. Part of me blames my mama for what happened to our papa, but deep down I know it was never her fault—it was Amir Suarez’s fault.

Isang buntong-hininga ang aking pinakawalan sa'king sarili bago tuluyang bumaba sa aking sasakyan. Tinignan ko ang oras. It’s lunch hour. The guards here know me well now. I just smiled at one and walked right in.

His office was on the fourteenth floor. When I reached the right floor, I caught sight of him—just out of a meeting. Our eyes met for a moment before his gaze dropped to the brown paper bag I held. His jaw clenched tightly. I swallowed hard and stepped closer.

“Have you eaten your lunch? Here, nagdala ako ng pagkain para sa'yo,” I said calmly, handing him the bag.

His eyes darkened even more. I smiled sweetly at him. He took the bag from me but ignored me completely as he strode past. My chest sank when I saw him toss the food I had painstakingly prepared straight into the trash—without even looking inside. 

He didn’t hesitate at all. Didn’t care if I saw it. I swallowed the lump in my throat and followed him inside his office.

“You’re probably still full... kaya tinapon mo yung binigay ko sa'yo,” I whispered, barely audible.

He chuckled—a cold, dark sound—and loosened his necktie. Each step he took toward me felt heavy, suffocating.

“You really think I’d eat your food? Just because we slept together the other night? I can’t even stand to look at your face. What makes you think I’d take even one bite from you?”

“Do you fucking know where you belong, Stella?’’

‘’A disgusting bitch like you belongs in the trash. You’re trash... just looking at you makes me sick.” His grip tightened violently on my waist. 

My knees nearly gave out when I felt his hot breath against my neck. I froze as his lips brushed my skin. He kissed me there—hard, possessive.

“I hate you. I fucking hate you.” His voice was filled with venom and contempt, and I couldn’t meet his gaze.

All my confidence crumbled. I shrank inside myself. Lisandro made sure I felt small. Tito Max’s words echoed in my mind. I pushed him back, forcing him into his swivel chair. His expression darkened even more as I spread my legs and sat on his lap.

He devoured my lips fiercely, without mercy. Suddenly, I found myself grinding against him, moving to the rhythm of his kisses. He groaned deep in my mouth as I pressed against him, feeling his hardness press into my stomach.

I smirked. “You... you fucking hate me?”

His eyes narrowed, cold and intense as he stared at me. His lips parted. He licked them slowly, then nodded.

“Yeah. I fucking hate you,” he hissed, reclaiming my lips with brutal hunger.

“You’re desperate, aren’t you? An expert at seducing older men...” 

His hand slipped inside my dress, fingers tracing fire against my skin.

“Why? You find me seductive? I thought you hated me, Mr. Constanzo.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he kissed me again, flicking my hardened nipple with his forefinger as he trailed kisses down my neck. Each touch weakened me; lust burned inside me like a wildfire—dangerous, uncontrollable.

Suddenly, a knock at the door stopped us. His secretary. He shoved me away roughly.

“Fix yourself. You look like a whore throwing herself at every man she meets, Stella.”

“Don’t ever show your face here again. I don’t want anyone to know we’re involved. I don’t want to be just another name in your collection of boy toys. I don’t want rumors. I don’t want my name dragged through the dirt because of you.”

His voice was ruthless, cruel. “You disgust me. You’re a disgusting bitch.”

For over two years, I’ve been secretly installing security cameras around his office—watching his every move, memorizing his routines, learning every subtle glance and gesture. It started as a desperate way to feel close to him, to understand the man who hates me but holds my heart captive. I obsessively watch, waiting for moments when I might glimpse a different side of him—the man behind that cold, cruel mask.

Sometimes, when I catch him off guard or see him lost in thought, my body betrays me. I touch myself, trembling with a heat I can’t explain, a dangerous thrill that pulses through my veins. The sight of him, so distant yet so powerful, stirs something wild and hungry inside me—something I can’t control.

Lisandro isn’t just any man to me. He’s the closest thing I have to a father figure. The father I never had. The man whose rejection cuts deeper than anyone else’s. My obsession runs deeper than reason—it’s the hunger of a broken girl desperate for approval, desperate for a love she can never have.

I know I’m crazy. But I can’t stop. Not when the pain of losing my real papa echoes inside me every day. Lisandro’s hatred only fuels the fire inside me. I need him to hate me—to care enough to hurt me.