4. Raine

Home.

The word did not arrive gently. It struck me. 

Sharp, sudden, almost violent, the moment the Montemayor Mansion rose into view beyond the iron gates. My breath stalled, fingers tightening instinctively around the handle of my luggage as though grounding myself against the surge of emotion threatening to overwhelm me.

There it stood.

Majestic.

Untouched by time.

White stone glowing beneath the morning sun, its surface polished to quiet perfection. The towering gates gleamed with dignified authority, while the gardens stretched outward like a meticulously painted masterpiece, every hedge sculpted, every flower curated, every pathway whispering familiarity.

Nothing had changed. And yet…

Everything had.

Including me.

For a suspended moment, I simply stood there beside the car, unable to move, unable to look away. The air felt heavier here, saturated with memory. This place carried my childhood laughter, my tears, my reckless joys, my youth.

This was not merely a house. This was my beginning. Before nostalgia could completely consume me, a voice broke through the quiet morning. “Raine hijo… is that really you?” My heart lurched. That voice, always so warm and tender.

“Nana Melva…” I whispered.

She stood near the gate, clutching a trash bag mid-task, eyes widening as disbelief melted into recognition. Then, just as quickly, those eyes shimmered with tears. My own vision blurred. Years dissolved into nothing as the distance vanished. I barely remembered dropping my luggage before I was already moving with no hesitation, no thought, only instinct. We met halfway like gravity itself had pulled us together.

Her embrace was exactly as I remembered: fierce yet impossibly gentle, the kind of hug that did not simply hold but anchored. The scent of soap and familiarity enveloped me, and suddenly I was no longer a man hardened by independence, success, and relentless expectation.

I was a child again. “Nana… I missed you.” My voice fractured embarrassingly fast. She pulled back only slightly, her weathered hands gripping my shoulders as she studied my face with quiet intensity. Her gaze moved slowly, memorizing every line, every change, every trace of the boy she had helped raise. “Oh, hijo…” Her voice trembled with emotion. “We missed you so much.”

And then, as if emotion alone could never remain unaccompanied in this family. “My goodness… look at you.” There it was. The teasing spark.

I laughed softly through lingering tears.

“You’ve grown so handsome.” I groaned inwardly. Right on cue. “A true young man now.” She spoke as her eyes gleamed with pride. “Our one and only Montemayor Prince.” I shook my head helplessly, smiling despite myself. Some things truly refused to change. “How is everyone?” I asked gently, though my heart already anticipated the answer. “Mom, Dad… Rafael and Samuel?” Her entire face lit up. “They’re all here.”

Relief surged through my chest like something tangible.

“Family Day, right?” I nodded.

Family Day. A tradition untouched by chaos, distance, or ambition. No matter how demanding life became, no matter how busy my brothers were, this day remained sacred. The twins would return to the mansion, we would gather, we would eat, laugh, argue, and exist together. Family was never negotiable. “Come, let me carry your bags.” She reached for my luggage. But I quickly stopped her, shaking my head. “Nana, I’ve got it.” She clicked her tongue dramatically, but pride shimmered unmistakably in her eyes.

Because once upon a time…

I had been the child who clung to sketchbooks and paintbrushes, refusing anything heavier than dreams. Now I stood before her, older, steadier, shaped by independence and the unforgiving weight of the world. We walked through the gates together. And with every step deeper into the mansion grounds. Something inside my chest began to loosen.

“Madam! Sirs! I have a surprise!” Nana Melva’s voice echoed through the mansion like an excited proclamation. I could not suppress the grin tugging at my lips. Still dramatic as ever. Still entirely Nana.

Inside the living room, the sight before me was painfully, beautifully familiar. Mom and Dad sat comfortably on the sofa. Rafael lounged with his usual effortless composure.

And Samuel —

Of course.

Samuel sat shamelessly on Rafael’s lap. Some things, it seemed, were eternal. They were completely absorbed by the television. And what were they watching? The Lion King. Classic.

I leaned casually against the doorway, crossing my arms.

“Surprise, lovers.” My voice sliced cleanly through the room.

Then absolute and immediate silence. Four heads snapped toward me. Their expressions were priceless. Bordering from shock to disbelief.

“What the hell?!” Samuel shot up so fast he nearly lost his balance. “You’re actually here?!” Laughter burst from my lips before I could contain it. God. I missed this chaos.

“Samuel. Language.” Mom’s voice carried immediate authority.

Rafael smirked.“Control yourself.”

Samuel ignored them entirely, eyes locked on me like I had materialized from thin air.

“Since when do you just appear like that?!”

Mom moved first. Always Mom. “Welcome home.” Her voice softened, warmth melting into every syllable. And suddenly, I was not a global name. I was simply their Raine. They engulfed me in a hug that nearly crushed my ribs. And I welcomed every second. Because no roaring crowd, no thunderous applause, no dazzling success could rival this. A sense that I belong.

We settled into the living room as though time itself had bent to accommodate my return. Snacks scattered across the table as laughter flowed easily. Comfort reclaiming its rightful place. Samuel’s eyes gleamed, dangerously.

“So…” I sighed internally. Here we go. “How is our Prince?”

I groaned audibly this time. “The Queen of Hearts…” I closed my eyes briefly.

“The singer-painter prodigy…” I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“With your face plastered across billboards worldwide?” I opened one eye and glared at him.

“Kuya, stop.” Heat crept up my neck. 

“First of all, embarrassing.”Laughter erupted instantly.

“Second, can we lose the Prince nickname?”

More laughter.

“I am not royalty.”

Samuel smirked wickedly.

“Too late.”

“And third, who came up with the Queen of Hearts?”

Samuel spoke. “Who else? Your fans.”

I sighed “Even if my hair is long,” I continued, irritation blooming, “I am still a fucking man.”

The room fell silent. Their expressions shifted showing surprise.

Because, well, I had cursed.

And Raine Montemayor…

Never cursed. Well, not openly though. Cause I always curse in my mind.

“Well,” Samuel blinked.

“You really changed.”

Mom shot me a warning look.

“Raine. Watch your language.”

Ah. There it was. The maternal glare.

“Sorry, Mom.” I muttered sheepishly.

Rafael leaned back, thoroughly entertained.

Then Dad suddenly spoke. Calm and deadly.

“Do you still love him?” My entire body froze.

“Dad!” Laughter exploded around the room. I turned desperately toward Mom.

“Mom. Please.” She merely smiled and shrugged. Oh heck! The betrayal!

“I hate all of you.” I muttered dramatically.

Their laughter intensified. And despite my irritation, and the teasing. Despite the unbearable embarrassment. Something warm, steady, profoundly comforting settled quietly inside my chest.

Because they were laughing. They were happy. And I am finally home. And no matter how much the world has changed me…Here..

I would always belong.