Chapter One: Her Name was Astrid

By the first hour of the meeting, Astrid Yu has killed Jerome Young twenty-three times.

In her head, of course. Kind of hard to commit a real murder when your showbiz ex-boyfriend literally has a lawyer by his side. Hell, Jerome was the reason Astrid was in a difficult position in the first place. Seated across each other with only a long table separating them and their representatives, Astrid would argue that they were in one of those reality TV shows that feature a couple that’s about to divorce.

Astrid was even dressed for the part. She wore an all-black dress under a dark gray blazer —with the shoulder pads! She opted not to wear pearl accessories like the wives in the movies because she wanted to at least look humble when she rips Jerome into shreds.

Only there were no cameras, no film crew, no directors yelling “Action!” across the room to signal the start of the scene.

Just Jerome and his lawyer, and Astrid and her mother, in the middle of a legal meeting discussing a Non-Disclosure Agreement that apparently came with their break up. But oh, what Astrid would do to wipe that smug look off of his face. He might try to look guilty with the whole situation, but Astrid knows Jerome like the back of her hand. And that is Jerome couldn't care less.

“Are you sure you don’t need a lawyer?” Mr. Atienza, Jerome’s lawyer, asks Astrid. His eyebrows knit together in concern—with maybe a hint of confusion as to why Astrid brought her mother instead of a professional.

“Because a lawyer could help explain the terms and conditions to you. At least, on how this Non-Disclosure Agreement could be favorable to your party.” He continues carefully, steadily keeping his gaze on Vivien Yu, Astrid’s mother.

“I guess I can call Mr. Bautista,” Astrid suggests, her voice trailing off, “but I don’t think —”

“Listen, you’re a lawyer, aren’t you?” Vivien snaps, quickly interrupting Astrid, “Can’t you do the same thing?”

If Astrid tried to dress the part of a humble business wife, Vivien went all out. She wore a fitting emerald green dress, adorned with gold and emeralds on her to match. It’s no surprise that Mr. Atienza looked intimidated in her presence.

“There might be a conflict of interest, but—” Mr. Atienza stammered only to be interrupted in the same manner.

“No offense, Nolan—your name is Nolan, yes?” Vivien asked as she adjusted her reading glasses to read the fine print.

“Yes, but it would be in our best interests if we stay on a last name basis.” Mr. Atienza replied in futile attempt to appear dignified, “For formality’s sake.”

“Right. So, Nolan, you’ve done a great job explaining to us what we can and can’t do should we sign this NDA. We can’t reveal the true nature of the break up, we can’t release any statements that would put Jerome in a bad light, and so on and so forth.”

“And you can only speak about Jerome in good nature.” He quickly added.

“Yes, of course.” Vivien waves him off dismissively as she flips through the pages of the contract. “But, as far as I know, you don’t have enough against us to make us sign these papers. In fact, you don’t have anything at all! So, from what I understand...” Vivien paused to take off her reading glasses and meet Mr. Atienza’s gaze. The lawyer visibly shrinks in his seat, but in a desperate attempt to keep the upper hand, he maintains eye contact. Foolish decision, really.

Vivien gives them a pitying look, “You’re the one who’s screwed.”

That wiped the smug look off of Jerome’s face. Astrid had to bite the side of her cheek to physically stop the smile from forming on her face. She’s only seen Jerome lose composure twice. The first time was when she caught him sleeping with his co-star, Audrey de la Torre, in the bedroom of his condo unit. The second time was now.

A tense silence falls in the room as the information sets in for everyone.

“So, tell me, Nolan,” Vivien finally starts, breaking the silence, “What’s in it for us?”

Mr. Atienza visibly fumbles with the papers in his seat, scrambling to find a reason to make us sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement. Jerome then puts hand on Mr. Atienza’s shoulder, a small gesture that caught Astrid’s attention.

“Just tell them.” Jerome says, his voice low. He puts his hand back on the table and leans back on his chair, trying (and failing) to look sympathetic.

“Right, uhm.” Mr. Atienza meets Vivien’s gaze once more—which annoys Astrid to no end. Because even though she was the subject of the meeting, it was like she wasn’t even there.

“Should you refuse to sign these papers,” Mr. Atienza starts slowly, “The studio’s executives might do everything in their power to end Miss Yu’s career.”

“You know how it goes. Fake news, smear campaigns, black propaganda... the usual.” Jerome adds as he leans over, eyes set on Astrid. “Something Tita Vivien is familiar with, I’m sure.”

In her head, Astrid just shot Jerome in the chest, killing him for the twenty-fourth time.

Astrid scowls deeply, glaring at Jerome who only returns her gaze with a seemingly sweet smile. She looks up to see her mother’s reaction, hoping that Vivien would tear him a new one, only to find her reading through the pages of the NDA with undivided attention.

“They... They would really like to see Sir Young’s movie succeed. And this, for the lack of better term, scandal would not only hurt his career, but also cost the studio a lot of money.” Mr. Atienza explained, finally finding courage in Vivien’s sudden silence.

“And if they find out that its failure is due to Miss Yu... well, they only want to tie up loose ends.”

And that’s when it struck Astrid.

All those years spent together in a loveless love team, forced to form a chemistry with a man she found more arrogant than loving, was all for naught. Because that’s all she was to him now. A ball and chain to his potential. A loose end.

Shame washes over Astrid like a large wave. Despite their best attempts to get the upper hand, she realizes then that they never stood a chance. Not with the studio’s executives playing a direct part in this stupid contract. Many things went through her head all at once. But if there was one thing that stood out, it’s that Astrid has gotten too far for things to end like this.

“I’ll sign the papers.” Astrid’s words cut through the air like a knife. It was like a breath of relief, releasing those words from her lips. However, she immediately regrets it when all eyes turn to her, Especially Vivien’s. But like Vivien always taught her, she has to finish what she started.

“I’ll sign the papers,” She repeated, “on one condition.”

The room is quiet once more, anxiously waiting for her next words. The same exact thing Astrid is struggling to form in her head.

“Well, let’s hear it.” Jerome says after a while, a tinge of impatience laced in his encouraging tone.

“Jerome doesn’t get to talk about me.” She finally says, “No statements, no interviews, nothing.” It’ll be like I never existed. She adds in her head. A thought she wisely omitted, judging by how Vivien was glaring at her now.

“Are you sure about this, honey?” Vivien asks her, making Astrid cringe at the choice of endearment. It was something Vivien only ever used when Astrid was in deep trouble.

“Well, that would save me a lot of trouble.” Jerome says thoughtfully, as if considering it. A grin then spreads across his face as he stretches a hand out at Astrid, “It’s a deal then.”

Astrid suppresses a face but hesitantly takes Jerome’s hand into hers nonetheless. Jerome gives it a firm shake before pulling away. Mr. Atienza gestures Astrid to the paper, giving her a sign pen to use.

“I want you to think about this, Astrid. Really think about what you’re about to get yourself into.” Vivien says, her voice sweet but dripping with warning.

Astrid breathes in and quickly signs her signature without another thought. She drops the pen on the table as breathes out a sigh and examines her shaky hands. She looked up at her mother for comfort, but even the look on her face was unreadable.

“I mean, all I asked for was to be served on a silver platter.” Jerome states with a chuckle, “Who would’ve thought she’d give it to me in gold?”

Astrid keeps her gaze on the paper, a scowl forming on her face as she stares at the Non-Disclosure Agreement. How is it that despite everything, Astrid feels like she is still lost?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“I told you—no, I showed you that I had everything under control. But what did you do? Not only did you sign the papers, you made a stupid condition too!” Vivien exclaims in frustration as she pushes the door to their condo unit open.

“Ma, he was already insulting you!” Astrid tried to explain as she followed her into the room. “I didn’t think—”

“Yes, exactly! You weren’t thinking! You got all worked up over a goddamn ant bite and now look where that got us,” Vivien said as she threw her designer bag on the couch. Astrid opens her mouth, only for nothing to come out. She stands by the doorway, unable to articulate the guilt that formed in her gut.

“I thought I was doing the right thing.” She mutters quietly.

“The right thing?” Vivien exclaimed in exasperation, “Astrid, what the hell have I been telling you since day one?”

“I don’t understand how that would still apply—”

“Any publicity is good publicity.” Vivien quotes as she takes her seat on the couch. She heaves a deep sigh and continues. “How are we supposed to profit from this break up if you’re not willing to get blood on your hands?”

“Profit?” Astrid repeats in mortification, “Ma, the last thing on my mind is to make money out of this!”

“Well, it should’ve been the first! What are you going to do now, cry about it?” Vivien asks as she glares at her daughter. “Astrid, your tears alone could make us ten thousand pesos in a day and you’re going to waste it on some guy?”

“I wasn’t even planning to cry about it!” Astrid cries in vain.

Vivien scoffs, “Sure. Like how you didn’t cry when you left that boy from Cebu.”

Astrid stares at her mother, dumbfounded. And just like any other argument they had, Vivien wins with a low blow, and Astrid retreats to her room in tears. Only she gets better and better at hiding her tears with each fight. Vivien sighs, burying her head into the palm of her hand as if nursing a headache.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Can we just talk about this in the morning? When it’s not as fresh and I have my head straight.” She says. And just like that, the fight was over. Astrid watches her mother get up from her seat and walk over to her with an apologetic look on her face.

“Forgive me?” Vivien asks. Astrid nods numbly as Vivien envelops her into an embrace.

“I’m sorry, anak. That won’t happen again.” But it will. Because this wasn’t the first time, and therefore, it won’t be the last. However, that’s not what strikes Astrid odd at this moment.

It’s the fact that despite such a comforting hug, Astrid never felt so violated until then.