Anthologies {MIKHAIAH AU}

the mayor and the firestarter pt 3

Aiah sat cross-legged on her couch, cradling a glass of wine as she stared at her phone. Stacey's barrage of texts was relentless, each one more invasive than the last.

Stacey: 'SOOOOO??? How was it?!'
Stacey: 'Like, was she as cocky IRL as she seemed online?'
Stacey: 'Does she ride a motorcycle or was that just for the aesthetic???'
Stacey: 'Is she hot?!!! Wait, dumb question, of course she's hot. YOU WOULDN'T GO IF SHE WASN'T HOT.'

Aiah sighed, tipping her head back on the couch before finally replying.

Aiah: 'It was fine.'

The ellipsis that appeared on Stacey's side told Aiah that "fine" wasn't going to fly. Sure enough, her phone buzzed again, almost immediately.

Stacey: 'FINE???? Ano ka, robot? DETAILS, AIAH. DEEEEETAILS!!!'

Aiah rolled her eyes but couldn't help the faint smile tugging at her lips. She set the wine glass on the coffee table, leaning forward as she typed.

Aiah: 'Okay, okay. She was... exactly how you'd imagine her. Sarcastic, cocky, funny. Definitely knows she's attractive.'
Stacey: 'Sounds like your type.'
Aiah: 'She's not my type.'
Stacey: 'Then why are you smiling right now, huh? Why are you trying not to smile while texting me, Aiah? Am I wrong? Huh?'

Aiah paused, caught off guard by how much Stacey wasn't wrong. She sighed, tossing her phone on the couch for a moment before running a hand through her hair.

Mikha had been... a lot. Exactly as bold and cocky as her messages suggested. But somehow, it wasn't annoying. It was magnetic, in a way Aiah hadn't expected. And while she would never admit it to Stacey, Mikha had a way of making her laugh, of getting under her skin in the most frustratingly entertaining way.

The kind of way that lingered.

Her phone buzzed again.

Stacey: 'So, are you seeing her again?'

Aiah hesitated, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. After a long moment, she typed back:

Aiah: 'Let's see.'

/

"So...?" Jhoanna leaned across the table at their favorite late-night diner, her grin borderline feral. She had a plate of fries in front of her, untouched as she stared Mikha down like a predator cornering its prey. Colet and Gwen were sitting next to her, equally invested, their heads tilted in anticipation.

Mikha, however, was playing it cool. Or at least, she thought she was playing it cool, slouching in the booth with her arms crossed and a smirk on her lips.

"It was fine," she said, mimicking nonchalance.

"Fine?" Jho said, her eyes narrowing. "You show up here looking all smug and mysterious, tapos 'fine' lang ang sasabihin mo? Tang ina, Mikha, don't test me. Give us something."

Colet snorted, sipping her milkshake. "Oh, this is gonna be good. Look at her. She's doing that thing where she pretends not to care, but she's probably been thinking about it the whole ride home."

Mikha shot Colet a glare but didn't deny it, which made Gwen raise an eyebrow knowingly.

"Fine," Mikha said, finally caving. "She was... cool."

"Cool?" Jho repeated, leaning further forward. "Wow, ano ba yan, Mikha. Ganyan ka ba kapag na-starstruck? Cool daw. Is she a celebrity? Was she that hot?"

Mikha groaned, grabbing a fry off Jho's plate and popping it into her mouth. "Okay, listen. She's—fine, she's hot. Happy? Pero it's more than that. She's... intimidating."