CHAPTER 3: PRETENTIOUS OMEGA

"They're multiplying around here."

Jude said it suddenly as we stood at the entrance of Jojo Club. We were parking escorts. Our coworkers were busy, so it was just the two of us, waiting for customers to arrive.

"What do you mean?" I asked, frowning as I took a puff of my cigarette.

He looked at me. "Betas, bro," he said, nodding toward a group of men walking inside.

"How do you know they're Betas?" I asked, my hands in my pockets.

"It's obvious. I’m a Beta too. I can sense my own kind just by looking," he said confidently, squatting beside me while smoking. "Remember? I guessed you were a Beta the moment I saw you."

I winced. Sure you did.

To this day, Jude had no idea I was just pretending to be a Beta. The truth was, I never lived as an Omega because I couldn't accept that part of myself. Being an Omega had stopped me from achieving so many plans.

Nobody suspected me, probably because of my build. I was tall and muscular, unlike typical thin Omegas. My basketball training in high school and my regular workouts helped. I always tracked when my heat would arrive and kept suppressants with me just in case. That was how I managed to live as a Beta without anyone suspecting a thing.

"So, what’s the problem if there are more of them here? You sound like you aren't a Beta yourself," I said.

He shrugged. "It’s nothing... I just noticed that they’ve become more confident coming to clubs like this, which are usually just the playground of Omegas and Alphas."

I couldn't help but nod. He was right; I had noticed it too. Before, it was only Alphas coming here to leave with Omegas, or rich Omegas looking for Alphas to satisfy themselves. But now, we were seeing Betas. They’d walk in, and by the time they left, they had an Alpha or an Omega with them—depending on their taste.

I smirked. "Are you jealous?" I asked, the cigarette still between my lips.

His brows furrowed, and he clenched his fists. "Yeah, so what?"

I laughed, nearly dropping my cigarette. "Yoo, no one is stopping you from going inside," I said, pointing at the entrance.

He shook his head. "Tsk. If only I were rich like them, I would have gone in there, had fun, and slept with the hottest Omega in the club."

I raised an eyebrow. "Then go do it now. Don't worry, I've got your back. Just give me your paycheck for tonight," I teased with a wink.

He gritted his teeth, glaring at me. "Didn't you hear me? I said if only I were rich."

"Huh? We can enter for free anyway since we’re employees."

He stood up and shook his head as if I didn't understand. I really didn't.

"Bro? Do you think I haven't tried that?" he said with a deep sigh. "I’ve gone in there, bro, but it was a bust."

I nodded. I finally got what he meant. He couldn't pick up the girls he wanted because he wasn't rich. Okay, I got it.

I tilted my head, thinking of what he could do. When an idea hit me, I didn't hesitate to say it.

"Why don't you just pretend to be rich?"

His forehead wrinkled even more. "Stop with the advice, bro. Now I’m sure you really have no experience with Omegas."

I frowned. Bro, I am an Omega.

He turned his gaze to the entrance of Jojo Club, where a crowd was walking in. He took another drag of his cigarette before speaking. "I’ve tried pretending to be rich..." I saw the sadness in his eyes. "...but I can't pretend to be an Alpha. I don't release the pheromones that drive Omegas crazy."

Sometimes I saw myself in Jude. We were both dreaming of being Alphas, but we weren't given that. We were both poor, left with nothing to do but smoke on the side of the road while waiting for customers who treated us like servants.

"Then why do you still want to be rich if it doesn't work?" I asked, taking another puff of my cigarette.

"Don't you notice it?"

"Notice what?"

He shook his head. "So, you really have no idea? What planet are you from?" he asked sarcastically.

"Mars," I snapped. "You want to come with me? I was going to feed you to my alien friends."

He shook his head at me again, looking like he had given up. He combed his hair back with his hand, his eyes now fixed on the road in front of us.

"Look."

My eyes followed where he was pointing. Not far in front of us was a huge billboard. I couldn't see it clearly because I blew a cloud of smoke right in my own face. When the smoke cleared, I finally saw the picture.

A man with blonde hair, wearing a formal polo shirt, sitting on a sofa. He was angled slightly, showing off his blue eyes.

Juan?

I saw him everywhere—billboards, TV, newspapers. He was famous because he was a professional basketball player in the Philippines and abroad. But on this billboard, he wasn't holding a ball. He was holding... a perfume bottle?

"Do you have an idea now?"

I frowned. "No! How would I know when you don't even explain what you're talking about?" I looked at him. "Sometimes you’re so hard to talk to. Just finish your sentences instead of just asking questions, okay? Give me some context."

He crossed his arms and shook his head again.

I wanted to break his head. He had been shaking his head like that for a while. It was so annoying, acting like I couldn't do anything right.

"You just have no common sense."

Wow! He had the nerve to say I had no common sense, when he was the one with no sense of direction.

I raised my fist at him. "Want some common sense?" I challenged.

He laughed. "Chill, okay?"

I raised an eyebrow. "You're making my blood boil."

He shook his head again. "You’re always high-blooded. Look at your face—full of bruises. I’m sure you got into another fight."

I threatened him with my fist again. "Want a taste of this?"

He backed away, laughing. Did he think I was joking?

"Okay bro, I'll explain to you," he said, turning his eyes back to the billboard. "Betas are more confident now because of him," he explained, pointing at the billboard.

I frowned. What did that guy have to do with Betas being confident enough to go to this club?

Wait. I couldn't deny that Juan was handsome. Maybe he came to this club often, and maybe he liked Betas.

I nodded. It makes sense. Maybe that was why there were more Betas coming here—because of him.

I stopped thinking when I felt Jude staring at me.

I raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You’re imagining things again."

I crossed my arms and took the cigarette out of my mouth. "Why don't you just tell me so I don't go crazy thinking about it?" I snapped.

He threw his cigarette on the ground, stepped on it, and tossed it into the trash can. I watched his every move. When he came back to his spot, I heard him sigh.

"You know, for me, he’s one of the perfect people in the world..." he started. "Handsome, athletic, rich, famous, a businessman, and above all, a dominant Alpha," he said, staring at the billboard with admiration.

"That's why he’s my idol. He has everything."

I winced. I wondered how he’d react if he knew I had just broken the face of the guy he called perfect.

"You know, I admire him not because he's an athlete, but because he's a businessman," he added.

I stretched my neck, listening. Honestly, I wasn't interested in this. I got bored easily listening to other people’s stories.

"He invented a perfume for Betas like me who want to know what Alpha and Omega pheromones smell like. A perfume that Betas can actually use," his eyes sparkled as he talked.

Oh really? I didn't know that. My eyes shifted to the billboard where Juan was holding the perfume. So, this was an advertisement for his perfume business.

"That’s why more Betas are confident—because they have a perfume that can go up against Alphas and Omegas," he continued.

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? It’s just a perfume? We know the real thing is different. A mere perfume is nothing compared to real pheromones," I commented. It was true. No matter how good it smelled, it wouldn't have the same effect as real pheromones.

He shook his head, looking like he disagreed. I couldn't help but arch my eyebrow.

"That’s why his perfume is a really big deal," he insisted, pointing at the billboard. "Because it’s not just a replica. It’s exactly a copycat of a pheromone. It can affect an Alpha and Omega just like real pheromones."

My forehead wrinkled. This was the first time I’d heard of such a thing. Was it really true that a perfume could affect Alphas and Omegas like real pheromones? Unbelievable. I couldn't believe it.

He seemed to read my mind, so he spoke again.

"I know it sounds impossible, but it’s the truth," he said without a hint of doubt. "No matter how famous someone is, people won't buy their product if it isn't effective."

Eh? How could he be sure? Was he underestimating people who were obsessed with their idols?

He sighed. "I know what you're thinking."

My forehead wrinkled. How did he read my mind? Was it that obvious on my face?

"Do you know the price of the cheapest perfume he sells?" he asked.

I held my chin. Okay, I get it now. The perfume must be very expensive, which was probably why Jude wanted to be rich—he couldn't afford his idol's perfume.

I thought about the possible price. Our monthly salary was only 10k, so maybe it was more than that.

"15k?" I guessed.

He shook his head, looking at me like my answer was way off.

My forehead wrinkled. "Then what?"

"100k," he answered seriously.

My jaw dropped, and I pretended to pick at my ear, thinking I had gone deaf. Was it true? The cheapest perfume Juan sold was 100k? Damn! That was expensive.

"Damn! That’s expensive. Are you sure people actually buy that?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yep. And that 100k isn't even his best-selling perfume."

My mouth opened. Was he serious?

"Then what is?"

"The 1.5 million one."

I dropped my cigarette and covered my mouth, staring at the billboard.

Jude laughed at my reaction.

"See? That’s how successful his business is," he said, proud as if he were a parent bragging about his child.

"Seriously? Are Filipinos really that rich?" I asked sarcastically.

"His customers aren't just Filipinos. They’re from other countries, too."

I shook my head, still unable to believe what I was hearing.

"That’s how popular his perfume is. Even foreigners buy it. And it wouldn't be popular if it weren't effective, because nobody would be willing to pay millions for a small bottle of perfume."

I winced. I couldn't believe the guy I had just fought with was so successful in his business.

"You know, he’s probably more famous for his business than for being a basketball player," he added.

My eyes were fixed on the man holding the perfume. His deep, blue eyes looked serious, staring in my direction.

Suddenly, I realized something. I couldn't help but feel a strange pain in my chest.

He's an Alpha... a basketball player... and a successful businessman.

Damn! He's really living my dream.