A Close Second

Seventy-Seventh

Greggory Elijah Lorenzo

Ahensya Likha was just nearing two years old. Technically, still a baby by industry standards—but no one could deny it had bite.

What started as a shot in the dark during a college pitch had morphed into a quiet storm—bold campaigns, fearless talent, and a hunger that didn't bother playing by the old rules.

And Beatrice?

She was their first win. Their first risk. Their blueprint and their battlecry.

She wasn't just a client. She was the test case—the soft launch, the gamble that had to work because they had nothing else to fall back on. Her face had built this place. Her campaigns paid the first bills.

And when she walked into the office, still half jet-lagged from a shoot in Paris or Milan, there was a kind of reverence in the way the team looked at her—not as some untouchable star, but as something sacred.

Family.

So when Beatrice's scandal came? It was a nightmare.

Her scandal didn't come with fireworks—it came pixelated. A blurry photo, lit by the garish neon of GenX, where Hunt Romero's arm looped lazily around her shoulders. The room behind them was all half-empty bottles, strobe lights, sweat on the walls—nothing like the polished gloss of her campaigns.

For us, it was just a night of us having fun, letting loose despite our tough schedules in school and work, but for them, it was an opportunity.

The Agency was first to move then, seeing it posted and as expected, go viral over the next days.

So they fled to Paris, with Sasha and Kenny holding the fort in Manila while Via and Matt went over damage control all while keeping it from Beatrice.

We joined in their ranks, not as a paid employees, but as concerned friends.

If Thea was the bunso, Beatrice was our best girl. Even in high-school, our barkada of five always had Beatrice as the only girl—Madam, as we called her. She had our backs, and now we had hers.

I remember the messages:

We do not tell her yet.

Keith, Nico and I bought GenX as a precaution, while the Agency issued take down requests and press hold. They don't deny the photo, but reframe as per Via's command.

'She was celebrating a private milestone with close friends, and while the photo in question captures a blurry second, it does not represent the full picture of who she is or what she stands for. We thank everyone for their continued support and understanding.'

It was brilliant.

What we didn't expect was how ruthless Hunt Romero's team was. They only had one photo, and then after a week, they made it look like a storm. The narrative went sideways, that Beatrice had always gone to GenX and met up with him, teasing a possibility of a relationship that was hidden in the public. All in a week's time.

There were photos, which were clearly not of her but of Hunt and a woman with her back, silhouette reminiscent of Beatrice, in compromising positions. Video clips, of a woman dressed inconspicuously while entering the back entrance.

Clearly doctored and engineered to look like her, but enough to make the public ask questions.

What was between them and Hunt? Was she secretly meeting up with him? Did she really have a dark side like this when she's all good and elegant in the pictures?

The public ate up the scandal.

And now?

Ahensya Likha was scrambling, but Via stood calm at the helm. She had always been calm but I know that this was also something entirely new to her and she was treading with caution on every single move.