Milieu Euphony (In Act Series #2)

Phase 18

PHASE EIGHTEEN

THE AGE OF GUIDANCE

Michelangelo de Angelis was a liar.

I was one of the people who believed his lies.

He let people believe that he was directed, but the truth was—he was directionless, and he was unaware of it—which was worse. Because the path that he had been taking was an illusion for his make-believe dreams.

How did I know about it? Because aside from him being one of us, his actions spoke for him.

Evidence was—his forlorn look at the sculptures.

I noticed it when I came across him staring at one of the sculptures in the hallway. Students would usually stop in front of a sculpture to make a quick sketch, but the god of the sculpting discipline was different.

He stood there—eyes trained on the mute sculpture sculpted from stone, unmoving. His brooding eyes lingered on the lifeless eyes of the sculpture as if he was commanding it to turn from stone to flesh.

He desired their rebirth, and he was eager to sacrifice himself to give life to the sculpture. But when time passed and it was still there, lifeless, he knew that he wasn't as powerful as he could be.

He was acting like a god, but he was far from it.

Or maybe, he didn't see himself as a god but an instrument of a god, I was unsure.

All I know was—Michelangelo was deceiving himself.

And it would break him before he could be aware of it.

I sat at one of the chairs at the Suite le Passion to immerse myself in the feeling that the directed people had. My seat was in the middle—probably my desire to be in the middle, or maybe I believed that it was where the "feeling" was most concentrated.

My hunch was working so I went on to continue with my sketch.

"Hi."

Someone took a seat in front of me.

Nag-angat ako ng tingin, naistorbo sa ginagawa.

The mixture of dark blonde and brown in his hair, and his cunning smile—I remembered who he was.

Atlantis Salvador, the guy who looked troubled with his direction.

"What?" I snapped, afraid that the lingering feeling of concentration would disappear.

Both of his eyebrows rose, his eyes fascinated. "Sungit mo naman. Naaalala ko tuloy si Lavien sa 'yo."

"Lavien?" mabilis kong tanong, naguguluhan. "How did you know her?"

Lalong namilog ang mata niya, tuwang-tuwa sa nangyayari.

"Wow," he said sarcastically. "Miyembro 'yon ng AEASR."

"AEASR? Ano 'yon?"

"Seryoso, 'di mo alam? Kung magkaibigan kayo da't alam mo."

"Kaya nga hindi ko alam," balik ko.

Humalakhak siya. "Sarkastiko mo naman," komento niya. "Assembly Empowering Art for Social Reform. Assembly na sumusuporta kay RAN. Rebelde 'yang si Lavien, eh. Nilalabanan niya gobyerno."

"RAN, the rebel painter?" hindi ko makapaniwalang tanong. "Imposible. Hindi sumasali si Lavien sa gan'yan."

Tinaasan niya ako ng kilay. "Oh? E pa'no mo nalaman kung 'di mo siya kilala?"