CHAPTER 3: Broken Homes, Rising Stars

Sophia POV

A month later…

I was preparing dinner when Dad came stumbling in. My siblings immediately ran to me, clinging for safety. I placed a plate of rice on the table, which we would share among ourselves.

“Piyang! Piyang! Where are you?!” Dad’s voice boomed as he entered our tiny, patched-up home.

“Why, Dad?” I asked, holding my two siblings tightly.

“So you three were just here!” he barked, his eyes wild. Drunk again. I could feel my siblings trembling.

“You’ve been drinking again?” I asked softly almost like a whisper, trying to stay calm.

“Mind your own business! Give me money!” he shouted.

“I-I don’t have any. What I earned… I already used to pay off our debts—” my eyes widened and hold my siblings tightly behind me.

“I know you have some! Give it to me!” He slammed the table, sending the plate of rice tumbling to the floor.

“I-I don’t… I really don’t.” Fear froze me. He grabbed my arm, but Esang bit his hand.

“Don’t hurt our sister!!” Becca screamed, hitting him with all her strength.

“Wow! You’re fighting back now, huh?” he sneered, shoving both of them aside.

“You’ve gone too far, Dad!” I yelled. I pushed him, but he quickly regained control and yanked my long hair.

“You shameless brat!!” His hands kept pulling and slapping me. My siblings’ cries joined mine.

“Stop it, please!” they begged. I was almost flattened on the floor.

“Don’t try to fight me! I’m your father! Be thankful I even took you in!”

“I wish you hadn’t!!” Dad’s slap landed hard across my face. He stormed into his room without a backward glance.

I broke down completely. My siblings hugged me tightly, and Becca pressed my cheek gently. I tried so much not to be in tears but everything is tiresome and painful.

“Sis…” Becca whispered, seeing blood on my lips.

I can see her eyes painfully. I smiled maybe it will make her calm thinking I'm okay.

“Let’s leave this place, sis. Maybe next time, Dad will kill us,” Esang said softly.

“We’ll leave… I just need to earn some money first. Then we’ll leave him behind,” I murmured.

Once I regained a little strength, I picked up the rice from the floor.

“How are we going to eat this?” Becca asked.

“I’ll handle it. Just wait at the table.” I cleaned the rice near the sink, removing every grain with dirt on it.

Tears ran down my cheeks as I prepared our meal. I refused to let our lives stay like this. I wiped my face fiercely. Then I grabbed the fried chicken from the street corner—pagpag, leftovers from fast-food restaurants.

Every day, this was our “feast.” But seeing my siblings eat happily made it worth it.

“You’re the best, sis!” Becca smiled, crumbs on her lips.

“You eat too, sis,” Esang offered.

“It’s okay. You finish it. One day… we’ll escape this chaotic life.”

“Promise, sis?!” Becca asked eagerly.

“Promise.” I kissed them on the forehead.

That night, I could barely close my eyes. I kept thinking of Dad lurking outside, watching us. At first, I thought he might feel remorse, but when I saw his face, fear surged through me. His intentions were dark.

The next morning, I went to Emma’s house. Arnie was already there.

“Friend!! What happened to you?!” Emma exclaimed as she opened the door.

I was bruised all over, my lips cut.

“Go to Emma’s room first. Write there for now,” I instructed my siblings. They obeyed immediately. Arnie gently held my face.

“That damn father of yours! Even as a gay, I could beat that bastard up! Emma, let’s go to the police!” Arnie was furious. I couldn’t stop crying.

“No… I don’t want to involve you guys,” I said, trying to restrain him.

“That’s exactly why your father abuses you!!” Emma scolded. “I have police contacts… I could get him arrested!”

“We’re leaving. I’ll just win the contest and then we’ll leave Dad,” I said, tears streaming down my face. “I’m exhausted…”

“Good! Finally, you realized it! Thank God!” Arnie hugged me, massaging my back. “Leave that Dad behind! He won’t change!!”

“Okay, get ready for later. We’ll cover your bruises,” Emma said, carefully applying concealer to hide my injuries.

“Remember, frend! We’re always here, okay?” Arnie said.

“Don’t be afraid to be alone. We always hide and seek at the back!” Emma added, laughing as she rummaged through her makeup kit.

We laughed together. I took a quick shower while Emma concealed my wounds, and Arnie styled my hair, curling the ends and adding bangs. By the time we finished, I barely recognized myself. I inherited my mom’s fair complexion.

At the venue, I wore the gown Arnie brought. It was a sweetheart cut body con velvet red how with a slit on my leg.

“There! You’re beautiful, frend. Don’t waste this contest! Don’t let them make you their punching bag. This could make you rich, gay!!” Emma joked.

“Let’s go in through the other side. I don’t want Dad to see us,” I whispered. I held my siblings’ hands to give them courage.

Inside, my anxiety spiked. The other contestants were stunning. I felt small.

“Do your best, friend!” Emma cheered. “If only I were good at Q and A, we could compete!”

“We’ll be watching!” I hugged Becca and Esang.

“Go backstage, kids. Emma, take care of them,” Arnie said.

I changed into a white shirt and faded blue jeans for the first round. My heart pounded. If I won, I’d take home ₱20,000—enough to move out.

“Come on, Sophia. You can do this,” I whispered to myself.

The judges were introduced. Instead of Mayor Eros Borromeo, his younger brother, Ethan Borromeo, would judge.

We were called. I smiled on cue. The crowd cheered. Emma had apparently gathered everyone from our neighborhood. I smiled, gaining confidence.

“Good evening, everyone. My name is Sophia Soledad, 19, from Goodwill, Novaliches!”

I breathed easier after walking in my six-inch heels, dancing slightly, then returning backstage. Arnie quickly helped me change.

“Don’t be nervous. The whole barangay supports you,” Arnie reassured me.

“Thank you!” I hugged him.

We walked the runway in our gowns. The applause and compliments were overwhelming.

Then came the talent portion. I sang. My voice wasn’t high, but people said it was uniquely moving. It was just a soft melody song. Kumpas by Moira Dela Torre.

By the end, the audience erupted into thunderous applause. I shook, dedicating the song to my mom—my compass in life.

Evening gown came next. I felt nervous in the daring black backless gown with a thigh slit. Arnie styled my hair again. I took a deep breath before stepping on stage. The applause and compliments were overwhelming.

Finally, the Q&A.

“Next is Miss Goodwill. Please come forward and pick one,” the host announced.

I smiled sweetly and picked Mr. Borromeo, the younger brother of our honorable Mayor.

“Good evening, Miss Soledad.” His eyes shone as he smiled.

“Good evening,” I replied politely.

“My question is: Do you think it is right to forgive or give another chance to someone you love who physically and mentally hurts you? Why?”

It felt like a bucket of ice water hit me. How could I answer that?

This guy, does he...knows me?!

I let out a heavy sighed then smiled again.

“Thank you for that wonderful question,” I began, forcing a smile and taking a deep breath.

“I believe everyone deserves second chances… everyone can forgive, but forgetting is hard. Some of you may know my story… based on my experience, I can give someone a second chance. Why? Because I love them even if they hurt me physically and mentally. I won’t give up on the fact that they once fought for me. Somewhere in their heart, they regret hurting me. But if forgiving them means turning my back on someone who truly cares… I can let them go, even if it’s my father. A real father wouldn’t hurt his precious daughter just to fill the darkness in his own life. Giving a second chance is also a victory for myself—for fighting till the end without regrets or what-ifs…”

Tears rolled down my cheeks, but I smiled. “T-That’s all. Thank you.”

The audience erupted into thunderous applause. I couldn’t stop crying as I turned away.

Could I confront my father, who once provided for us? Could I truly give up on him and start anew? Questions swirled in my mind, but I pushed them away.

When the winners were announced, only two remained. I didn’t win Miss Novaliches—but first place was enough to bring home some money.

“Well, your answer was heavy for me!” Arnie joked.

“Sorry, I had a mental block,” I admitted.

As we walked home with gowns, shoes, and flowers in hand, Emma and my siblings left first since it was late.

Emma and my siblings had already gone home since we got held up finishing the awarding ceremony, and they were starting to get sleepy.

“But frend, the mayor’s brother is really handsome, isn’t he?” Emma teased.

“I noticed too. But where was his brother? Feels like the handsome factor is missing when he’s not around,” I replied.

The way he looked at me earlier—the expressive, almond-shaped eyes—was unforgettable. Just like the man who helped me on the bus.

Both of them lingered in my mind.

“Hasus! He really worries about the mayor, huh? Did you miss him?” Emma giggled.

“Crazy! Just curious. You really link every guy to me.”

“How could I not? So many get jealous since you’re always invited to the mayor’s gatherings. Seems like he favors you too.”

“You’re crazy! The mayor’s just kind. And I volunteer, so it’s normal for me to see him.”

“Wittittitt! Who got tricked by their partner? Him? Or his brother? But whatevs, friend, that doesn’t matter.” We laughed loudly.

“You’re such a troublemaker,” I said.

Before we could reach the Goodwill arch, I stopped walking. Dad’s group had appeared.

“Son of a…! Which busybody tipped off your father? Shit shit shit!” Arnie whispered angrily.

“Where’s Papa Jerome? Didn’t he pick you up?”

“He’s on duty today,” I replied.

“Well, here comes my beautiful child!” Dad approached with his friends. I instinctively held onto Arnie.

“Don’t intervene, I’ll crush these punks myself, frend!” Dad threatened.

“Let’s just avoid them,” I whispered, afraid. There were four men.

“Ah, Andoy! Your child really is beautiful,” one man said, scanning me with hungry eyes.

“Hey, Mang Bogart! Behave! You’re old and married, don’t be staring at my friend!” Arnie shouted.

“Shut up, you gay!” Bogart yelled back.

“Step back, friend! This is going to get messy!” Arnie warned. Their laughter was like demons’ cackles.

“How rude you guys are!” I shouted, trying to stop Dad from swinging a bottle at Arnie, but it struck my left wrist.

“Friend! What a bastard!” Arnie stomped at Dad while the others tried to charge.

“What do you want from us?!” I cried. I didn’t know which hurt more—the wound on my wrist or the pain in my heart.

“Where are your siblings hiding?!” Dad demanded.

“What business is it of yours? Planning to hurt them again just to extort money?” I shouted.

“Ah! Getting cheeky, huh? Who do you think you’re scaring? That security guard?” He grabbed my injured hand, making it throb even more.

“Ah, Andoy, he deserves a lesson,” one of Dad’s men said. Arnie threw his shoe at him, along with the others we had on hand.

Before Dad’s group could advance, a large motorcycle blocked the street.

“Problem?” the rider asked as he dismounted. I couldn’t see his face under the helmet, but the bike was familiar. The one I almost crashed into before.

“Don’t interfere! I’m just talking to my child,” Dad shouted.

Before the rider could respond, Mang Bogart lunged at him. The man quickly threw his helmet at Bogart, hitting him squarely in the forehead. He collapsed instantly.

“Shouldn’t you discipline your child at home, not on a dark street? And who’s this chubby guy? Your wife?” Arnie laughed loudly in his h

witty remarks.

I looked at the man. Black mask, slightly long hair, those almond-shaped eyes… it was him. The handsome, kind man from the bus—the one who saved me.

He approached slowly, in what seemed like slow motion, took a handkerchief from behind his back, and carefully tied up my bleeding hand.

“You okay, miss? Nice seeing you again,” he said.

“You bastard!” another one of Dad’s men charged him, but he kicked him aside easily, sending him sprawling to the ground.

When one of Dad’s friends pulled out a DIY gun, I stepped in, throwing the money I had won at them. I didn’t want anyone else caught in the mess.

“See? If you keep harassing my siblings for money, you’ll be out of our lives for good! Shame on you, Dad!”

“Barangay friends are coming!” Dad’s men panicked and ran. I grabbed the helmet and handed it back to the man.

“Thank you. Next time… don’t just get off your bike in a place like this near the squatter area. You might get yourself hurt,” I said, bowing slightly.

“Is that so? Don’t worry, Miss Martyr. Won’t happen again. And thanks for the reminder. But maybe you should say that to yourself too,” he said as he put on his helmet. “I offered help, but it feels like a waste of time.” Then he sped off.

That voice… He was the guy from the bus. And that motorcycle… so familiar.

“Grumpy,” I muttered. I was just worried. He looked rich, too.

“Why were you grumpy too? He looks so kind. What now? Will he get mad? Or rich?”

“I’ll figure something out,” I said wearily as we walked back to Arnie’s house. I kissed my siblings one by one while they slept soundly.

Why did I give all my money away? Such a fool.

“Arns, sorry,” I said to Arnie before lying down, while he lounged on the sofa.

“Why are you apologizing, friend?”

“We’ve been through so much headache. Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Stop it. Forget about the money earlier. You’ll earn it again. Sleep now, we’ve got side jobs tomorrow. Good night, frend.”

“Good night.” I hugged him briefly, then went to the room where my siblings slept. I kissed their foreheads, lay down beside them, and finally drifted off.

Ethan POV

I collapsed on the bed, Sophia Soledad repeating over and over in my mind.

Since I saved her from that Jeep accident near her school, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. My legs had moved on their own that day.

I didn’t want to judge the beauty contest, but when I saw her, I agreed immediately. She was more beautiful than I remembered from the bus.

Shit… I really need to get laid.

I wanted to ask her about her father but stopped. It was her father confronting her, not the men I saw. Why would a father do this?

When Dad hit her with a bottle, I followed instinctively, wanting to protect her. My heart ached seeing her like this.

“Knock knock,” my brother’s voice interrupted.

“Come in,” I muttered.

“So… did it go well?”

“Next time, don’t proxy me, brother. It was boring,” I said, burying my face in the pillow.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Sab’s smile while with her new friend.

Fuck.

“Sophia Soledad… you’re so pretty, turning me on, yet just so plain, stupid, and martyr-like. Just like me…”

To be continued....