JhoCey Imagines

MRT

—
The MRT platform was as chaotic as ever, filled with the usual crowd of commuters-students, office workers, families in a rush. Jhoanna sat on one of the few benches available, her bag on her lap, a pen tucked behind her ear, and her reviewer open. She was trying to cram the last few topics for an exam tomorrow.

The hum of the trains and the murmur of voices around her became background noise. She read the same line for the third time before sighing and leaning back.

Ang init. Ang gulo. Sana sa bahay na lang ako nag-aral.

She pulled her pen from behind her ear, absentmindedly tapping it on her reviewer. It was then, as she glanced up, that she noticed her.

Across the tracks, standing near the edge of the opposite platform, was a girl around her age. She had her arms crossed, her bag slung over one shoulder, looking out into the distance like she wasn't in the middle of Manila's daily chaos. Her presence seemed... effortless.

Jhoanna blinked. Ang ganda niya.

The stranger wore a simple shirt and jeans, nothing extraordinary, but it was the way she carried herself-calm, almost serene amidst the frenzy. Her long brown hair caught the faint glow of the platform lights, and for a second, Jhoanna forgot to breathe.

She quickly looked down, her face heating. Ano ba 'to? Tingin ka lang, Jho. Wag OA.

But curiosity won over. Jhoanna found herself sneaking another glance. This time, the girl turned slightly, her profile catching the light. A small smile played on her lips as she listened to someone on the phone.

For a fleeting moment, Jhoanna wondered who she was. Which school she went to. Where she was headed.

The screeching of an incoming train broke her thoughts. Jhoanna's train was approaching her side of the platform. She quickly gathered her things, shoving her reviewer into her bag. As she stood, she glanced across the tracks one last time.

The girl was gone.

—

The following week passed in a blur of classes, assignments, and long commutes. By the time Jhoanna boarded the MRT every evening, she was drained-too tired to notice the people around her, too focused on just getting home.

It wasn't until the fourth night that something felt... familiar.

She was seated by the window, her bag on her lap again, her headphones in place but no music playing. The train was crowded as usual, people standing shoulder to shoulder. Beside her was someone with a faint floral scent-a light, clean smell that cut through the usual MRT grime.

Jhoanna glanced to her side. The girl sitting next to her was looking out the window, earbuds in, her phone in hand. There was something about her profile that tugged at Jhoanna's memory, but her exhaustion dismissed it.

It wasn't until the fifth night, when the train jolted and Jhoanna's elbow accidentally bumped her seatmate's, that she really looked.

"Sorry," she muttered, glancing up.

The girl turned, her soft brown eyes meeting Jhoanna's. She smiled politely.

"It's fine."

Jhoanna froze. It was her.

Her seatmate-this calm, serene girl she'd barely noticed all week—was the same girl from the opposite platform.

The realization hit her like a freight train.

Magkasama kami sa train, gabi-gabi, at hindi ko man lang napansin?

Jhoanna's mouth opened slightly, but she couldn't find the words to say anything else. The girl had already turned back to her phone, seemingly unaware of Jhoanna's internal chaos.