Behind Curtains

Kabanata 27

Kabanata 27

Kitschy

We often cite ancient scriptures and philosophical beliefs, to dehumanize ourselves. And most of us, if not all, are self-taught to dapple each of our personalities with paradox, conspiracies and socio-political stands, to feed our empty egos. Pretensions. Bullshit.

To be complicated intellectuals. Deep-thinkers. Well-read. Well-versed in the many facets of the classical arts. In lieu of our actual shallowness. 

To disguise the blunder of our actual practicality in the prying eyes of the ones who are out to get us.

When in reality, we can barely spare time to fully immerse ourselves in the understanding of our own essence. When in reality, each and every one of us are too caught up in our own superficiality and unstable truths, that things the public eye could not see are suddenly considered worthless.

Suddenly, the actual truth, the authentic life, do not amount to anything notable anymore. Unless, of course, if they serve humiliating... or prideful purpose... to someone else. More often than not, sadly, to a should-be nobody. A mere by-stander. To somebody who just craves even the littlest spotlight.

Especially, if it favors a talented charlatan. One who is over-ambitious, greedy and envious. One who... likes feeding their own egos with someone else's disgrace.

One who... goes off at all the necessary theatrics that came with... the drama of it all.

"Layla?"

"Hmm?"

"Are we good?"

The question did not caught me off-guard so much as seeing the apologetic look on his face. And I couldn't help but giggle a bit. Which, if it weren't for my innate need to be careful, would've resulted to spilling my orange juice all over the white tablecloth.

"Sorry," I smiled at my rudeness and shook my head slightly. "What do you..."

Tumikhim ako at sinulyapan siya. I found it funny, but Sir Killian did not even flinch at my reaction. Narinig ko lang itong palihim na bumuntong-hininga, while I dabbed a table napkin on my lips at inayos na ang upo.

"What made you ask that?" inosenteng tanong ko at palihim na binilang iyong mga buntong-hininga niya.

Sir Killian and I were having lunch at his office. And confirming my suspicion from an hour ago, the necktie really was just an excuse to lure me out of his penthouse. A lousy one, if we were being honest.

The man had a full feast-for-two set out. Ready to be devoured, when I was finally able to enter his proper office. Clearly out of place and a few feet away from his floor-to-ceiling windows, the mid-size round table that held our meal sat at one of the many bare areas of the overly spacious room.

Which somehow shrunk against Sir Killian's tall and massive frame.

Who had his lips a bit protruded at the moment, when I only stared at him, at wala pa ring gustong aminin.

"You've been... avoiding dinners with me... for three days now," he said carefully. "Was it because of what I said? At Starbucks?"

"Hindi 'no," I almost snorted as I denied it. "I just got really tired that day. With all the walking. Didn't I text? I went straight to the spa..."