Random Shots

Panganay.

The room was thick with tension, the kind that makes the air feel heavier, harder to breathe. The only sounds breaking the silence were the distant murmurs of staff outside, unaware of the storm brewing inside the President’s office. Imee Marcos stood at the center, her fists clenched, her chest heaving with a mix of fury and despair. Her usually sharp and composed eyes now blazed with an intensity that would have frightened anyone else, but not the man sitting behind the desk—her brother, President Bongbong Marcos.

"Bonget, stop listening to your wife and start listening to me!" Imee’s voice sliced through the room like a knife, filled with a rawness that reverberated even through the walls, causing the staff outside to exchange nervous glances.

Bongbong looked up slowly, his expression a mask of calm, but there was a heaviness in his eyes, a weariness that spoke of countless battles fought behind closed doors. "Ime," he began, his voice low and measured, as if trying to soothe a raging beast he knew all too well.

But Imee was beyond soothing. She stepped closer, her hands trembling not with fear but with the sheer force of the emotions she had been holding back. "Ako! Sa lahat ng tao, ikaw pa talaga ang hindi makikinig sa akin? Ikaw pa ang magdududa sa akin" Her voice cracked, not from weakness, but from the overwhelming sense of betrayal she felt. "Ako, Bonget! Ako na kasama mo mula't sapul, na nagtanggol sa ating pamilya sa harap ng mundo, ako na nagtiis ng lahat para lang manatiling buo tayo, ako pa ang hindi mo pinakikinggan?"

Bongbong sighed deeply, rubbing his temples as if trying to massage away the tension that had settled there. "Ime, calm down. People outside can hear you. Be professional," he replied, his tone still calm but with an underlying firmness that only fueled Imee’s anger. She cannot bear the president rather her brother in blood.

“Professional?” Imee spat out the word as if it were poison.

"I'm not worried about being professional; I’m worried about our name going down in flames! Do you even know what’s happening in our country? Why are you so oblivious to the POGO issue and that mayor? What are you doing about the Gentleman’s Agreement from the previous President? Where’s your voice on Sara’s resignation from DepEd? The People’s Initiative? Where are you, Bonget, in all of this?"

Bongbong’s gaze hardened, though he remained seated, the calm center of the storm. "Ime, you know I’m handling these things. I have to choose my battles. Asawa ko si Liza, and I won’t let you disrespect her like this. Sara made her decision, and I respect that."

Imee’s fists clenched tighter, her nails digging into her palms so hard she could feel the sting. "Respect? You’ve respected everyone else, but where’s your respect for me? That wife of yours is a disgrace! Liza is the one dragging our name through the mud, and you’re doing nothing about it! I don’t even know who you are anymore, Bonget. You’re not my brother!"

The room seemed to shrink under the weight of her words. For a moment, silence filled the space between them, thick and suffocating. Bongbong’s expression softened slightly, but the weariness in his eyes remained, a sign of the burdens he carried. "Ime, I know how hard this is for you. But you’re not alone in this fight. We all have our roles to play, and this is mine."

Tears welled up in Imee’s eyes, blurring her vision as she looked at her brother, not as the President, but as the little boy she had once protected. "You disappoint me, Bonget," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"You disappoint me so much."

Bongbong stood up slowly, his eyes narrowing. “Ime, you don’t understand. Liza is my wife. She’s part of this family now, whether you like it or not. You think I’m the one who’s changed? Maybe it’s you who can’t let go of the past.”