Hukayserye

DYING EMBERS

Author's Note:
Hello kapanaligs! So nakapagsulat ako ng something. Ewan ko ba kung paano, pero wala naman ito sa plano. Well. 😂Ayun. May second part pa po ito pero matatagalan. Nakakadrain infairness ha. 😂 Para sa full reading experience, listen to the ff. songs:
-The Day You Said Goodnight, Bakit Part Two, Tensionado, and If the feeling is gone

Anyways, go on and read at tulad ng dati:

FICTION ITO! ANG FUNNY ITUTULAK KO SA HUKAY! NAPAKALAYO NITO SA KATOTOHANAN KAYA ANG MANIWALA DITO HAHAHAHAHA CHARARAT! 😂

RJ was never late.

He was known by many as a punctual person, arriving at his commitments an hour earlier. He's always well-prepared, and when things go out of hand, he initiates to inform people who might get inconvenienced. So at past five in the afternoon, an hour late from their agreed time and RJ was nowhere in sight, Maine was chewing on her nails, anxiety kicking in.

She was waiting at the parking lot of her condo by her car, because he promised to take them out for dinner tonight. But to her dismay, RJ was no-show. Her ten SMS messages remained unreplied to, either. She knew how much of an eager person RJ was more than anyone else, so the thought of him being hours late sent her thoughts into jammed loops. Did he have an errand on the way? Possible. Maybe Dad or Riza or Mama Ten asked him for something out of the blue. Was he not feeling well today? But he seemed okay during Kalyeserye, was it the intense weather? Probable. Did he have another accident on his way to her? She shuddered at the thought.

Or maybe, he just kind of...forgot?

The last thought sent ripples of panic over her. The ripples rolled into waves of endless worries, all ending with the same question: was today that kind of day? The one that begins with-

Her musings came to an abrupt end when a familiar car pulled over to the farthest empty spot. Usually, the Jaguar sets into the one beside hers, the space most tenants and visitors leave alone because they knew, over the last couple of months, that someone parks on it during the wee hours of the night to visit someone in the penthouse.
Usually, he stops right over there.

It seems that today wasn't part of their 'usually'.

Maine watched as RJ got out and locked his car. Clad in a plain white vneck shirt and a snapback, RJ glanced at the other side, wary of people who might notice him. She waved her hand in the air, signalling to him, until he finally looked her way. Maine breathed easy again as RJ walked towards her, but an unknown ragged pain emerged as she noticed that the bounce in his gait was gone.

The ripples formed again, in soft and calm patterns before her.

"Bakit ang tagal mo?" She asked, looping her arms around his neck in that familiar hug, the one she's always given him when they meet out of the glare of the cameras. In return, RJ gave her a tighter hug, his hands clasping at the small of her back. RJ is still him, Maine thought, but his hands left her soon. Too soon than usual. "May dinaanan lang, kasama ko kasi sina Kuya Jose. Di ako nakapagFacetime agad, sorry." He reasoned, his eyes boring into hers. The molten brown intensity was still there, but something was amiss. Something Maine could not put a finger onto.

The ripples started again, sharp crests rising and falling smoothly into one another.

"Hm. Ayos lang. Ano tuloy pa ba tayo sa dinner? Traffic pa EDSA, as always. Baka ibigay na sa iba yung reservation natin pag 'di pa tayo nakaalis ngayon." Maine inquired, her hands taking hold of RJ's wrist. RJ just shrugged and said, "Ikaw bahala. If you think it's too far of a drive, then we'll just stay."
Maine mentally calculated the distance from her condo to the resto, and taking into account that it was a Friday, she decided. "Wag na, magluluto na lang ako ng Alfredo." RJ nodded in agreement.

The two of them sped up to the private elevator, their heads down. They do it like the way earthquake drills are done: Duck- away from people's eyes, Cover- shield themselves with whatever piece of wardrobe they have, and Hold- hold on to each other's hands like crazy, as if afraid something will tear them apart.

But then again, today was not one of those days.
~~~~

Maine scrambled through her drawers for her favorite Fettucine pasta brand, while RJ busied himself with adding salt to the boiling water. As Maine cranked open the Alfredo sauce about a feet away from him, she wondered why RJ was so quiet.
He was so quiet that all she could her was the bubbling and the sound of metal against metal. She looked up from her can opener to see what he was doing, only to find him staring at the blue flames.

"Gutom ka na ba? Teka, ako muna diyan. Handa mo na lang dinnerware. Thank you." She said, sliding up next to him and taking over the stove. She expected him to brush up, sidle against her in an attempt to do breezy, or even give a backhug. But RJ did as he was told- he slipped out from the kitchen quietly, the clinking of glasses in his hand the only response to what she said.

She felt the calm waves again, but she felt strong pulls underneath.

Maine drained the Fettucine, chopped away the mushrooms and chicken, and tossed everything in to one pot. After a whole hour or so, the steaming hot Alfredo was plated, and Maine proceeded to the dining table, where RJ sat at the opposite end. Another unusual, because RJ would always occupy the one next to her. The two of them began eating in silence. That worried her more, because RJ was never silent. With her, at least.

"Love may joke muna ako sa'yo," Maine started off, stopping RJ's fork halfway to his mouth. RJ stared at her, brows raised. "Ano?" His trademark smirk forming. "Anong 'pasta' ang hindi ko pagsasawaan?" She asked, inching closer to him, leaning forward. RJ put his fork down and did the same, his gaze boring into hers. "Pasta? Alfredo? Lasagna?" He answered. Maine shook her head, a playful smile and a slight blush forming across her features. "Mali." she said. "Share it." He conceded.

"Ehdi ang PASTA-yahin ka. Araw-araw." She said in her signature pabebe voice.

RJ snorted, giving a weak grin. "Last mo na yan." He replied, going back to his unfinished meal.

"Pero may mas hindi ako pagsasawaang PASTA." She continued, "at yun ang PASTA-lamatan ka, for staying. For choosing me." She croaked. RJ looked up, his stare unrelenting, and just like the first time they met, Maine could not look directly at him. But this time, with a different reason. Not because she was too shy of a creature to ogle at the country's hottest male star, but she was afraid to see something different.

Something like dying embers.

"Masarap yung Alfredo, Meng. As always. Thank you." RJ finally, said, breaking the silence. This time, Maine found the courage to meet his gaze. "RJ, pwede ba 'kong magtanong?" she asked, her hands gripping the foam of her seat. RJ nodded.

"Vanilla pa rin ba favorite ice cream flavor mo?" She asked in a small voice.

To an outsider, Maine's question might seem mindless, but asking him his favorite ice cream flavor gave away a lot of things. Months ago, when they were still discovering each other, Maine asked the same question, under the heat of the Boracay sun. It was random, but she believed in the saying that one can identify a person's qualities by the flavor of the soft serve they like. That time, RJ admitted to have like Vanilla the most, for the reason that it reminded him of her- simple, sweet and exotic as a taste. As she recalls it: 'Maraming masarap at matamis na flavor ang ice cream, pero at the end of the day, pag naoverwhelm ako sa lasa, vanilla pa rin ang choice ko.' That was what he said. To an outsider, that was a question right out of a child's slumbook- superficial, holding no meaning at all.

But to Maine, his answer was her sanity.

Silence.

She waited for an answer.

But he never gave any.