Anthologies {MIKHAIAH AU}

totga pt 1

A/N: Hope you're ready for this universe!

/
Mikha adjusted the strap of her messenger bag as she stepped into the cafeteria near her office. The smell of burnt espresso beans mixed with the faint metallic tang of rain wafted in, carried by customers dripping wet from the storm outside. She didn't mind the chaos. Chaos was predictable—an old friend, almost comforting. The same couldn't be said about the alumni homecoming invitation that Colet had forwarded to their group chat three days ago. Mikha could still hear her best friend's voice in her head:

"Wag ka nang mag-inarte, Lim. Punta ka. Everyone's going. At para kang bitter kung di ka pupunta."

Mikha had rolled her eyes, as if Colet could see it. She wasn't against the idea of reunions in theory. It was just—well, a lot of people from her past didn't exactly stay in the past. One in particular. The only one that mattered.

"TOTGA alert!" Colet had teased her over the phone when Mikha hesitated about RSVPing. As if she needed the reminder.

Mikha ordered a black coffee and made her way to her usual corner seat, her soaked boots squeaking on the tile floor. She plopped down and took out her laptop, trying to focus on the debugging she needed to finish before the day ended.

But her mind had already gone elsewhere—

The rain hadn't stopped that night either, back when they were still in university. Mikha could still remember how Aiah had tucked her long brunette hair behind her ear, her smile soft and lopsided as they shared an umbrella that barely covered them both.

"Ang gulo mo talaga, Lim," Aiah had said, laughing as Mikha half-jogged beside her, trying to keep pace. "Hindi ka na marunong magdala ng payong? Basic adulting skills 'to, ha."

"Eh hindi ko naman alam na uulan," Mikha had countered, though she knew it wasn't true. She just wanted to see if Aiah would share her umbrella again, the same way she had the week before. And the week before that.

Mikha rubbed her temples as she returned to the present, shaking her head. Five years. That should've been more than enough time to let go of something—or someone. Right?

But Aiah wasn't just someone.

Her laptop dinged, snapping her out of her thoughts. A Slack notification popped up from her teammate, along with the words Critical bug spotted. She stared at the screen, forcing her brain to focus. She'd buried herself in work for years just to avoid thoughts like these, and yet one alumni email had undone all of it in an instant.

Later that night, Mikha flopped onto her bed with a groan, her phone lighting up with notifications from their chaotic college barkada group chat.

Jhoanna: "Uy sino magpa-party after homecoming? Stacy??? Kunyari pa. Alam ko mag-papainom ka!"
Stacey: "Excuse me! Budget-conscious queen ako ngayon."
Maloi: "Budget-conscious pero bagong nails mo?"
Stacey: "Girl, priorities. HAHAHA."

Mikha smirked as the messages piled up, but her smile wavered when Aiah's name popped up in the thread for the first time.

Maloi: "Si Becky ba kasama mo sa alumni party, Aiah? Or solo ka?"

The thread exploded into gifs and teasing comments, but Mikha barely registered them. Becky. Of course Becky was going. Aiah's fiancée. The beautiful, glamorous, half-Thai, half-British model who looked like she stepped out of a designer catalog and probably never had a bad hair day in her life.

The reality of it stung in a way Mikha didn't want to admit, even to herself. She tossed her phone onto her bedside table, face-down, and sighed.

"Ang drama ko," she muttered. But the lump in her throat wouldn't go away.