h1

friend – chapter three

September 25, 2011

“what’s his problem? why’d he hang up?” friend, said. he was seated at the back of a car. beside him lay an orange gym bag. in front was a driver, and on the passenger side were a stack of cd’s. he wore a tattered black shirt, and grey plaid pj’s. he just woke up.

“what’s up with him? he’s so moody.” friend said aloud again. the driver of the car made a witty response. a response we’ll never know. friend was too busy with a text message he just received that he didn’t hear it. too preoccupied to even remember Books’ cancelling of the call.

“i’ll go to manila in 2 months.”

friend ‘s heart raced again. this was it. the fulfillment of the wish. perhaps going back to the philippines was really a wise decision. excited, he blurted a suggestion to the driver.

“cebuano might drop by in two months. can he still crash at your place then?” friend asked the driver.

the driver responded with a jokingly sarcastic retort. something about orphanages and cats, it made no sense to friend. friend was halfway through with a reply to the text message.

he was thinking of how to finish it off. something smart, classy and witty, but not seemingly needy, that’s how he always finished off his responses. always.

the only child of a family that’s consistently on the move friend never had a lot of friends. he’d be happy with one or two. but with the advent of technology and all things fast friend started having a network of acquaintances from all over the world wide web.

ever since he was little, his fascination of colors, shapes, textures and expression of his innermost desires and emotions stirred a strong inclination towards the arts. eventually winging a degree, he sought to work and express.

lastly, he prided himself of not only being inclined to the arts, but also in being intellectually ahead. a true artist, a prodigy. a future icon.

looking at his reply, he was torn as to what he would really want to happen. a significant part of him wanted ‘Cebuano’ to come, two months is definitely something he can wait out. a part of him didn’t: He was supposed to come the next day. not in two months.

he deleted his reply. he erased Cebuano’s message.

“do you have any body sprays with you?” friend asked the driver.

“there’s one at the gym bag beside you.” the Driver then laughed.

“what’s funny?”

“you should’ve taken a bath. you are going to meet someone right?” driver teased.

friend looked at his reflection at the rear view mirror, his hair was disgruntled, his eyes puffy. designer stubble littered his face. he looked smelly. he smelled his shirt, and he didn’t smell cute either. quickly, he zipped open the gym bag, propped his phone inside it, took out the body spray, a spare shirt and blue boxers. he also took out a lime green baseball cap.

“so my gym bag’s your dresser now?”

“you shouldn’t have laughed at me.” friend replied with a grin.

he tore off his pjs and his tattered black shirt. he sprayed a generous amount of body spray to his body. after a great deal of humiliation, and some very difficult show of flexibility, he was able to change into the blue boxers and white shirt. after trying to make his hair follow the makeover that had been happening, he simply decided to put on the lime green cap.

friend looked at the rear view mirror, and satisfied with the results of his on-the-road makeover; he retrieved his phone from the gym bag and dialed books’ number.

books – chapter two

the next day – chapter one

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3 comments

  1. […] friend – chapter three […]


  2. […] friend – chapter three […]


  3. […] friend – chapter three […]



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