MY BEAUTIFUL LADY

The promised make-up kit from her parents turned out to be just pressed powder and a magic lipstick.

Flora Amor was on the verge of tears, seething at her mother.

“Well, how was I supposed to know Mamay Elsa couldn’t get one from her manager?” her mother replied casually.

“Ma! You are the most disappointing mother ever,” she muttered through gritted teeth.

Her mother only laughed, fixing her in front of the full-length mirror.

“You’re already beautiful, anak. Pressed powder is enough. Just reapply later when it fades,” she said reassuringly.

She dabbed a little lipstick on Flora Amor’s eyelids and cheeks, then brushed pressed powder all over her face.

“See? Who would’ve thought that’s just lipstick for your blush?” she said with a smile, admiring her daughter’s reflection.

Flora Amor giggled. She hadn’t realized she could look this pretty with just powder and lipstick.

“You know, I came home early today just so I could get you ready—so you won’t embarrass yourself in front of Anton,” her mother teased, a little guilt-tripping her to ease the sulk.

“Fine,” Flora Amor answered, holding back a smile.

“Now put on the dress so I can fix your hair,” her mother ordered.

She hurried into their bedroom to slip into the dress Anton had given her earlier, supposedly for the party.

When she stepped out, her mother’s jaw dropped.

“You look stunning, anak!” she exclaimed.

Flora Amor let out another giggle.

She was wearing an off-shoulder lace dress, which Anton said was vintage style, paired with soft pink two-inch heels. She giggled again, a little thrill shooting through her. If only Dixal could see her now—he would definitely be delighted. She really did look beautiful.

Her mother moved on to her hair. She parted a small section from each side above her ears, braided them, wrapped them at the back, and secured them with a hairpin.

“You’re so beautiful, anak,” her mother kept repeating, unable to stop praising her.

Flora Amor just kept giggling.

Even Anton was left speechless when he came to fetch her. He froze at the doorway for a few seconds.

“Woww!” he finally exclaimed.

“O, Anton, take care of my daughter, okay? Make sure she’s back before midnight,” Aling Nancy reminded him.

“Yes, Auntie,” Anton replied politely.

After saying goodbye to her mother, they left in his car and picked up Mariel.

Anton kept sneaking glances at the rearview mirror, while Flora Amor’s nerves were tied in knots. For some reason, Dixal kept crossing her mind. every time she thought of him, her heart raced.

“Beshie, is that really you!?” Mariel exclaimed as soon as she got into the car.

The two friends squealed in unison and burst into laughter.

“You look gorgeous, Beshie,” Mariel told her. “

"You’re glowing—so girly!”

“Hmp! Why are you outshining me, Beshie?” Mariel teased back.

“It's just a pressed powder, Beshie. Mama promised a make-up kit, but it ended up being just pressed powder and magic lipstick,” Flora Amor answered with a playful eye-roll.

Mariel laughed out loud.

Anton, caught between the two, didn’t know whom to look at, so he kept his eyes fixed on the road.

By the time the three of them arrived, the place was already crowded with guests. They walked in with their arms looped around Anton’s, the young man sandwiched between the two girls.

Flora Amor felt a rush of embarrassment. It was her first time attending such a grand party. Almost everyone turned their heads as they entered, some whispering and asking who she and Mariel were and whose daughters they might be.

She noticed that nearly all their professors were present. Her face burned red. It felt as if they had become the center of attention.

“Beshie, can I go to the restroom first? I really need to pee,” she whispered once they were inside.

“Okay, but come right back,” Anton said.

Nerves tangled inside her. She couldn’t tell if she needed to pee or if she just felt like running away. All she knew was she wanted to be in the restroom, away from the stares.

But once inside the bathroom, she didn’t pee at all. She exhaled slowly and gazed at herself in the full-length mirror opposite the shower.

Even with such a simple look, she still looked beautiful. The off-shoulder dress suited her perfectly. She had nothing to be afraid of.

Drawing in another deep breath, she gave herself one last look before opening the door. But just as she stepped out, a woman in a gown bumped into her and shoved her aside without so much as an apology.

The woman was elegant, probably around her mother’s age. Flora Amor could only shake her head as she made her way back to the living room.

Instead of Mariel, she spotted Anton’s mother first. The woman came straight toward her.

“Wow, you’re gorgeous today,” she said with admiration.

Flora Amor smiled shyly and took the woman's hand and put it on her forehead as a sign of respect.

“Have you seen Anton?” she asked.

She shook her head. “No, I was looking for him too.”

“Maybe he’s in his room. If you see him, tell him I need to talk to him,” the woman said before moving off to greet other guests.

Flora Amor glanced up at the second floor. Maybe Anton was indeed in his room. She climbed the stairs, but as she reached the door, she froze.

“I won’t allow you to use her as your bait!” Anton’s angry voice came from inside.

“I’m doing this for my country! Nothing’s happening, and it’s time I act,” another man shot back.

Were father and son fighting?

She hesitated, then decided not to knock. Instead, she returned downstairs, determined to find Mariel.

“Amor?”

Her heart skipped. That voice—Dixal? He was here? Had his father invited him?

“Amor…”

She turned toward the sound, searching.

And there he was, near the doorway, lips parted, eyes fixed solely on her. Her chest thudded wildly.

He looked impossibly handsome in his formal attire.

“Amor… you’re so beautiful,” she heard him whisper, never breaking eye contact.

Her cheeks flushed. She smiled shyly at him.

“Dixal, come.” A woman suddenly latched onto his arm.

The girl from Mang Inasal! her mind screamed.

Her lips quivered as pain stabbed through her chest. The woman tugged him away—and he didn’t resist.

“Beshie, there you are,” Mariel said, appearing beside her and taking her hand.

“Let’s eat already, I’m starving,” she whispered.

“Later, Beshie. It’s embarrassing right now,” Flora Amor replied softly, though her mind was elsewhere.

Why did it hurt so much? Dixal hadn’t even approached her. He should be by her side, not with that other girl. After all, she was his girlfriend.

She lowered her gaze to hide her sadness.

“Amor…”

Her head snapped up. Dixal was there again, just a few steps away, smiling at her.

She frowned. Why wasn’t he coming closer? Was he ashamed of her? Or was that woman also his girlfriend? Her eyes demanded answers, but he said nothing.

“Look, there’s the celebrant and his father,” Mariel nudged her.

Flora Amor turned to see father and son descending the staircase, smiling as if nothing had happened earlier in the room. Had she only imagined the argument?

“Bakla!” Mariel called out playfully, waving at Anton. But when she noticed everyone turn at the nickname, she quickly fell silent.

“Shhh,” Flora Amor hushed her.

Anton, hearing it, chuckled as he walked over.

“Careful, Mariel. People might actually believe I’m gay,” he joked.

“Hush!” she smacked his arm, blushing with embarrassment.

Anton slung an arm around Flora Amor. She stiffened at the warm grip on her shoulder.

“Beshie, your hand,” she whispered, uneasy.

Anton just smiled, not letting go.

Sensing her discomfort, Mariel clung tightly to his other arm.

“Bro, you’re holding on like you’re in love with me,” Anton teased her.

Her face reddened even more, and she bit his shoulder playfully.

Anton chuckled under his breath.

Flora Amor could only giggle at their antics.

The room grew quiet when the celebrant took the stage to give his thanks.

“Who are those girls?” a woman behind them whispered.

Before Flora Amor could turn, Anton’s mother answered softly, “They’re Anton’s best friends.”

Anton gently squeezed Flora Amor's shoulder.

She turned to him with furrowed brows.

“Just can’t help it,” he whispered at her ear with a grin.

She gave him a faint smile, forcing herself to focus on the celebrant.

Then someone slipped in beside her. She ignored it—until a hand clasped hers firmly.

She turned sharply, only to be stunned.

Dixal!

He didn’t even glance her way, but his grip was tight.

Her heart went wild again, her pulse racing as if she were being chased.

Suddenly, the room felt unbearably warm. She tapped Anton's arm.

“It’s so hot, Beshie,” she murmured with a smile when her friend looked at her.

“Ah.” Anton nodded.

Dixal loosened his grip slightly and gave her hand a tender squeeze.

She nearly jumped. His smallest gestures always startled her, always made her chest flutter.

She wanted to lean her head against his shoulder, to cling to his arm—but she held back, afraid he might pull away. Whatever his reason was for keeping things discreet, she chose to understand instead of doubting him.

So she squeezed his hand back, trying to contain the rush of joy.

So this was what being in love felt like. One small gesture from him, and she felt like floating in the clouds.

She let her head rest lightly against his arm.

“Beshie, are you sleepy?” Anton asked.

“What? No!” she blurted, straightening quickly so he wouldn’t notice Dixal’s hand holding hers.

Her heart, however, was soaring. She couldn’t believe she was standing here, next to the man she adored—the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on.

When Anton’s father finished speaking, Dixal finally let go of her hand and stepped forward to greet him.

A pang of regret shot through her chest. She sighed softly, missing his presence already.

She and Mariel followed Anton to the table reserved for them beside his parents’.

“Can we eat now, Bakla?” Mariel whispered to Anton as soon as they sat down.

“Didn’t you eat at home?” Anton asked.

She shook her head. “So I can eat more here.”

But Flora Amor’s mind was elsewhere. She was searching the room for Dixal.

.................

Outside, Dixal stood talking to his talkative friend.

“Bro, listen to me. Stay away from that kid. You know what’ll happen if your grandfather finds out you’re falling for her,” his friend said gravely.

Dixal shoved one hand into his pocket, rubbing his forehead with the other.

“Just shut up, okay,” he muttered.

“Bro.” His friend gripped his shoulder.

“I know what you’re feeling. It’s just infatuation. You’re overwhelmed because this is the first time you’ve ever liked a girl. Trust me, stay away from her before it’s too late. Veronica almost caught you holding her hand.”

Dixal shoved him away in anger.

“I told you to shut up!” he snapped. “Do you even know what I’m feeling right now?”

He tilted his head back, staring at the dark, starless sky, before turning back to his friend.

“How can I stay away from her when I can’t even take my eyes off her?” he said, voice tight with emotion.

He buried his face in his hands. He didn’t understand what was happening to him. If Lemuel hadn’t held him back, he might have already whisked Amor out of the party and taken her somewhere else. He never thought such a short encounter with a girl could unravel him like this—could make him fall this deeply in love.

“You love her, okay. But what about her? Can you really fight for her when your grandfather finds out?” Lemuel challenged.

Dixal clenched his jaw, eyes flashing.

“Hey, you there!”

It was Veronica, walking toward them.

“What’s with those serious faces? Is something wrong?” she asked, raising a brow.

Dixal turned away.

“Nothing. We were just talking about his business trip,” Lemuel quickly covered.

“Oh, I see.” She nodded, but suspicion lingered in her eyes as she watched Dixal head back inside the housee.