The Letters of Paris

Chapter 08

"I said, you're not going to Milan." he heaved a sigh. "And you're not going to model, Paris."

"What do you mean?" Tumaas na ang boses ko. I searched for any pun in his expression but he looked too serious with his answer.

In my peripheral view, the maids stopped what they're doing and glanced over to us. I saw Manang silently gesturing everyone to leave the area hanggang sa wala nang tao kundi kaming magkapatid na lamang.

"Na h'wag kang padalos dalos ng desisyon," Hinawakan niya ang magkabilang balikat ko. "You're just eighteen, anything can happen—"

Iwinaksi ko ang kamay niya. "Hindi mo 'ko naiint—"

He chuckled. "Of course I understand you. Gusto ko rin dati makabilang sa kompanya ng Nike, diba?"

He was smiling as if he reminisced about what he wanted to be before. The funny thing was, he just wanted to own different sneakers that Nike produced.

But this was different. Mine was different from his. That was his dream not his vision.

"That's why I helped you with your expenses," he continued. "...to satisfy your younger self." pabulong niyang sinambit bago iniwas ang paningin sa 'kin.

Umawang ang bibig ko. Saglit ko 'tong tinitigan, waiting to take back what he recklessly said pero mukhang naghihintay ako sa wala. Hinalungkat ko ang bag ko para kunin ang ka isa-isang bagay na ibinigay niya sa 'kin mula noong dumating siya.

I couldn't helped but sneered bittersweetly when I saw my brother's name carved on the card.

Carson Pryce Esquivel

Esquivel, not Ross.

Ibinaling ko muli ang paningin sa kaniya at napangisi sa ideyang napuna ko. To think that he would be happy for me if I told him what I wanted. To think he would be willing enough to support me. Pero kahibangang umasa kung ganon.

Lumapit ako sa kaniya at linapag ang card sa side table bago muling tinagpo ang paningin niya.

"I never used that." halos malasahan ko ang pait sa mga salitang binitawan ko.

"Are you listening to me?!" he yelled in frustration.

I didn't answer and just stared. Unti-unting nagbago ang kaniyang ekspresyon. Simula sa pagka kunot ng noo, sa pagtatagpo ng kaniyang kilay, his eyes displayed how disappointed he was, hindi ko mapigilang sumang ayon sa pagkakahawig niya kay Dad, but his pressed lips eerily resembled Mom.

He squeezed his eyes shut, and pinched the bridge of his nose before narrowing his eyes again to me.

"You're not going to model, and it's not up for any goddamn discussion." Marahas na kinuha ang bag sa upuan. "—Anong mararating ng pagmomodelo mo? Sinunod ko ang luho mo, but don't take your spoiled attitude too far! You're becoming a headache to Mom."

My lips parted in surprise while I tried to take his words all in. I stared at his face, waiting for regret to show, but it wasn't appearing, not even slight discomfort.

"I never asked for your money ...you already know I never wanted to become a doctor." I paused, swallowing the lump on my throat before I could even choke on it. "You never wanted to become one too."—you wanted to become a teacher.