Between The Lines

Tête-à-tête

Inane Note: This picture was from Miss Mabeth Concepcion's instagram.

Like I said, these stories won't be part of any cohesive story and they won't follow any timeline. They will mostly be random stuff that I make up as I go along. Also, the S and B in one story may be different from the S and B in another story. Thanks for reading. :) - IS

I only noticed that I was left alone in my dressing room when a harried knock tore my attention away from the game of candy crush I was so passionately playing. (My daughter downloaded the app and now I'm addicted to it.) Where did everyone go?

"Hey coach!" the visitor said as she crashed in, unannounced and uninvited. She looked frazzled. Why wasn't she dressed for the show yet? I couldn't hide my surprise at seeing her. This girl hardly ever talks to me and now she's invading my space.

"What's up?" I asked her. (I guess I can finish this round later. I'm down to my last life anyway.) She made herself right at home and sat beside me in front of the mirror.

"Hi coach. I hope you don't mind me staying in here for a while." She stole a glance at the door she just closed on her way in. Then she stood up, opened it a bit and took a peek only to close it hurriedly, short of slamming it shut. There were many questions swirling inside my head but I just let her take a seat again.

She smiled at me through the mirror, and something tells me she's up to something mischievous. But then again, I don't really know her that well. It could mean anything, anything at all. "I was thinking, could you grant me an interview?" She asked, tentatively.

What?! That I didn't see coming. And then she nodded, more to herself than to me, like she just decided on something. She was more confident when she continued.

"Yes, that's what I'm here for. I wanted to ask you for an interview."

"Me?"

"Yes. I will be interviewing you." This from a girl who refuses to look, let alone talk to me during our first days of working together on our other show. Good thing the other coaches were open to conversations. I see her listening and smiling when we're telling stories to each other. She speaks her mind only when prodded to do it. She's more of a listener than a talker, the kind of people we seem to be short of these days.

"Ha." How odd. "What's gotten to you? Are you being serious right now?"

"Absolutely!" was the overeager reply.

"Which paper will you be representing then? Or magazine?" I decided to humour her. Might as well, right?

"Nothing. This interview will be for my sole benefit. It won't be published anywhere."

"Ah. I see. So basically, it would just be a conversation."

"No. It's an interview because I would be the only one asking questions. You're not allowed to ask any."

"Is this a prank or something? Where are the hidden cameras? Did Lea put you up to this? Maybe Pancho?" I looked up and around me, checking for nooks where little cameras could be placed.

"No. You know I've always been a fan of yours, right? And it would be a dream come true for me to interview someone like you, one I look up to since I was a kid. I have so many questions I want to ask you."

"Well, if you're really, really serious, sure. I think?" What am I saying yes to? Oh, what the hell. "Just ask Pancho. I'm sure we could fit it somewhere in my schedule."

"How about now?"

"Now?!" I asked, a bit incredulously.

"Yes! It's the perfect time! Aren't you bored? Since we have all this time to kill. They won't be calling us in a while, I reckon. I think I heard something about a broken camera that has to be replaced."