Chapter 3

(Joaquin's POV)

Nasa kama ko siya.

As in. Literal.

Nakadilat ako, staring at her like she was some kind of cosmic joke from the universe. Pa-starfish pa na nakahiga, lasing na lasing, at ngayon—yes, narinig ko na naman ‘yon—

Blaghhh.

Sumuka.

Ulit.

I blinked, deadpan. “Seriously? Again?”

Dahan-dahan akong lumapit, pinigilan ang sarili kong tumawa—or tumawag ng exorcist. Kumalat na naman ‘yung suka sa mamahaling bedsheets ko. Fresh hotel linens turned battlefield real quick.

What. The. Hell.

Hindi pa ‘to sapat?

It was her.

Erena Lopez.

Ang babaeng may attitude ng whole boardroom at confidence ng isang corporation. 'Yung type ng babae na kahit sumuka, may aura pa rin ng royalty.

She snored.

"Christ.”

I grabbed my phone, pressed a button. “Room service. Urgent cleanup. Palitan lahat ng sheets. Yes, including the pillows. And maybe throw the whole bed.”

“Yes, Mr. Hernandez.”

Next call.

“Zane,” I said flatly.

“Sir? (Napatingin si Zane sa relo habang sinasagot ang nasa kabilang linya. 1am na natawag pa siya ano na naman kaya ito?)Bakit po?”

“May babae sa kama ko.”

Pause. “...Are we celebrating this, or do you want me to call security?”

“She’s unconscious. Lasing. And she just vomited. Twice.”

“Oh. So not the fun kind.”

“She’s also Erena Lopez.”

Another pause.

“As in Empressa heiress? Yung sa fashion empire? Yung tinawag kang ‘walking red flag’ nung sa bar?”

“That’s the one.”

“Ano’ng gusto mo gawin ko?”

“I need you to assist in getting her cleaned. She's a mess. Pa-dry clean mo yung damit niya. Kung hindi na maligtas—sunugin. And wag kang kukuha ng picture.”

“Got it.”

“And Zane…”

“Yes, boss?”

“No one hears about this.”

Ten minutes later, malinis na ulit ang suite. The bed, spotless. Erena? Nakatulog na sa couch, balot ng robe ko, mukhang tulog na tulog kahit sinakop na niya buong gabi ko.

Nakatingin lang ako sa kanya, sipping coffee.

Di ko alam kung tatawa ako o magpapabless.

Of all the people na pwedeng sumugod sa room ko…

Bakit siya pa?

Siya yung klase ng babae na kahit lasing, may presence. Yung tipong kahit di niya sabihin, alam mong may power siya. And worse—maganda pa rin kahit kalat.

I hated that I noticed.

Pero mas lalo kong kinainis na I didn’t hate it.

Kinabukasan.

Tahimik ako sa labas ng bedroom, kape sa kamay, waiting.

Then—CRASH. May nalaglag.

Sinundan ng, “WHERE IS MY LIFE?!”

Ngumiti ako.

Perfect timing.

Pumasok ako, kalmadong-kalmado, like I didn’t witness last night’s chaos firsthand.

Nakita ko agad siya—nakabalot sa comforter like a panicked burrito. Naka-wild hair, gulong-gulo, parang may tinatakbuhang multo.

“Mornin’,” I said, poker face on.

Nanlaki mata niya. Literal. ‘Yung parang may nakita siyang multo. Ako nga lang pala ‘yun. Multo ng kahihiyan niya.

I tilted my head and still had my poker face on, “You look... rested.”

“Where are my clothes?”, ani niya.

I raised my eyebrow. “Dry-cleaning.”

Her eyes widened. “Did you—did I—did we—?”

I smirked, “What do you remember?”

She groaned and collapsed into the pillows again.

Lubog pa din sa kahihiyan si Erena. Ininom ko ang kape ng dahan dahan bago muling nagsalita, “If you can't remember anything, maybe nothing really happens."

Tahimik pa din si Erena.

"But what I learned last night is, you really like abs. You keep admiring it.", I smirked.

Namula siya.

Literal na pula, parang stoplight.

Tumayo ako sa tabi ng bintana, binuksan konti para pumasok ang liwanag. Tamang torture para sa may hangover.

“You’re welcome by the way,” I added. “Could’ve called hotel security. Could’ve posted a photo. Pero instead, nilabhan ko damit mo and made sure di ka mamatay sa sarili mong lasing.”

Dahan-dahan siyang sumilip sa kumot, half dead, half diva. “I hate you.”

I smirked. “You’re not the first.”

“Ano ba talaga nangyari?”

“Anong naaalala mo?”

“Tequila. Bar. Abs mo… wait—”

Tumahimik siya.

“Did we?..." Tilting my head, I said, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Nanlaki ulit mata.

“Relax, Erena. Natulog ka agad. Di kita ginagalaw. I’m not a criminal.”

She breathed. Tapos biglang nagmukhang offended na naging relieved siya.

Classic Erena Lopez.

“Tingin ko panaginip lang ‘to,” she muttered.

“Well, sa panaginip mong ‘to, sinuka mo ‘yung kama ko at ginastos ko ₱15,000 sa laundry service.”

Tumayo siya, trying to be composed kahit mukhang hangover mess siya. “I need my clothes.”

“Nasa closet. Clean and folded. My assistant handled it.”

“YOUR assistant saw me like this?!”

“No,” I lied.

She squinted. “You’re lying.”

I smiled innocently.

Nagmumura siya habang naglalakad papuntang banyo, dala-dala pa rin ang blanket like it was armor.

“I swear..” she warned, “if you tell l-I cut her off, amused. “What? That you snuck into my suite, admired my body, puked on my bed, and called me a ‘rom-com sin’?”

She groaned. “Damn. Don’t finish that sentence!”

I laughed.

?+he slammed the door.

And for the first time in a long time, I wasn't entertained.