Congratulations! You’ve Won the No Critic Award
Gritting her teeth, Cleo takes one piece of Kwek-Kwek, the to-die-for boiled quailed egg coated with an orange batter, deep-fried until it was crispy enough to eat from the stick. She adds sweet sauce and vinegar to give it a little extra flavor, and it just tastes good. Anne orders a gulaman, a cold refreshment, and drinks.
“Ah, now, that’s sweet and refreshing!” Anne exclaims, happy that school is over for the day. “We should look for your perfect dress, Leo.”
Cleo thinks that’s a good idea. She should look perfect tomorrow for her premiere night. She has to appear in her best form so she can show everyone she’s doing exceptionally well. But she needs to broach the topic of Direk Everett attending her premiere.
Cleo doesn’t want her family to think she’s chasing after her father. She’s just being courteous and professional—the way Direk Everett is. She’s making her path by trying out every single opportunity that comes her way. If it doesn’t work out, then she can always just jump into another show and be . . . a talent. Thinking about it ruins her mood. The roles shouldn’t bother her. It’s good she’s got a job she likes. So, she lets herself have a merienda, unaffected by her image in the world of showbiz. Right now, she’s eating the best street foods: Kwek-Kwek, chicken balls, and kikiam. And loving it.
“The mall’s just that way,” she points. “Will you help me?”
When a little boy comes near the food cart, the vendor shoos the kid away. Cleo hates seeing people hungry, no one should be hungry, just as no parent should ever let their kids out alone on the streets. But life is terribly hard for so many. The twenty pesos she paid the vendor is a luxury to the very poor.
“Manong, another Kwek-Kwek, please.” Cleo takes coins from her pocket and pays the vendor twelve pesos. She hands the Kwek-Kwek to the boy with a smile. “Here you go—have some snacks.”
“Maraming Salamat, Ate,” the boy happily replies, grateful for the treat. He grins from ear to ear and gives some of the food to his sister.
“It’s sad, isn’t it?” Anne says, watching the boy and the girl share the Kwek-Kwek with other homeless kids. “Thank you for always putting food on the table, Leo.”
“Hey!” Cleo bursts into a smile. She hates seeing people sad, especially Anne.
“Sorry!” Anne apologizes, shooting her an apologetic look. “Didn’t mean to burst your bubble, but yes! You need a spectacular dress. Let’s go shopping?”
Cleo can’t even remember when she last shopped with Anne. They’re both tired and stressed, and this could be their chance to unwind. She hates not saying anything about a specific premiere guest, but she doesn’t want to ruin this day. She’s decided not to talk about Direk Everett until after the premiere. That way, it’ll be over.
“G!” Cleo giddily agrees, feeling like she and her sister are young princesses. Cleo and Anne hop from one store to another to give in to their childhood fantasy, not worrying about the price tags. They know what expensive feels like—smooth and carefully threaded with intricate designs, but they don’t care; they’re there to have some fun.
Back then, they didn’t have many toys or dresses because their mother had to work her butt off day and night as a nanny so that they’d have something to eat. And when Cleo saw her mother’s weariness whenever she came home, she knew she had to take over.
On the way home, Cleo gets a text from Owen.
Owen Velazco (9:10 p.m.)
How’s your day, My Miss Starlet? Got your eyes set on a particular outfit yet? Let me know.
“That Owen?” Anne asks.
“Yeah, he’s asking if I’ve got a dress for tomorrow.”
Cleo and Anne have managed to carry three shopping bags and one grocery bag in a taxi. Lately, Thea’s been experiencing migraine, so they’ve decided to do the grocery run for her, and they might as well clean the house this weekend if nothing gets in the way.
“He’ll come tomorrow, right?”
“Yup,” Cleo confirms, replying to Owen’s text.
Cleo Walter (9:12 p.m.)
I went shopping with Anne. I will drop by the distribution office to check on the final details for the premiere. I don’t want anything to go wrong. As for the outfit, you’ll see it tomorrow ;) Love you. Talk to you later x.
Owen will have his two-day exam on Thursday and Friday this week, yet he will attend tomorrow’s movie premiere with Cleo. He told her it’s not a bother at all and he’d like to get a good night’s break before the day of the exams. He is stuck in his room, studying all day and all night, and he says a night out with her will do him good. He makes her happy. Genuinely and truly happy, she hopes he does well. He’s been dreaming of becoming an architect forever. She knows he’ll design the world’s most remarkable building someday! And she’ll be proud to say, “My boyfriend designed that.”
Cleo smiles to herself. The future’s looking great so far, and she hopes nothing ever stops them both from achieving their dreams—no matter what others say. They deserve recognition for their talent and hard work. And then a nagging thought bothers her: Direk Everett.
“Anne, Direk Everett’s coming to my premiere,” Cleo admits to Anne.
Anne’s eyes widened. “He is? Oh, wow, that’s new.”
“I’m sorry. I—”
Anne shushes Cleo. “Hey! It’s okay, but I don’t think Ma and I will come. Maybe we can watch it after the premiere, or if we can get a copy of it later on? That good?”
Cleo’s relieved. She knows the premiere will already be awkward enough. “Yeah, it’s more than okay. I’m sorry, and thank you.”
“It’s okay! You’ll do great, Leo,” Anne says, understanding Cleo’s mind as always. “Show him what you’ve got, okay?”
Cleo nods and turns to the driver. “Near the next streetlight is fine.”
“You take care and get a taxi once you’re done, and send me the plate number once you’re on the way home, yeah?” Anne tells Cleo.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay?” Anne asks again.
Cleo laughs, gets out of the car, and gives Anne a thumbs-up. “Got it, boss! Later!”
Cleo goes inside the building, signing the log sheet at the security guard’s entrance. Then she gets in the elevator and presses five. Only around four people on the fifth floor are still working on their computer screens, but she can see they’re all packed up and ready to call it a night. She scoots around the corner and finds Jay holding the guest checklist.
“Oh, hey, Cleo! What brings you to the—” Jay cuts the conversation short when his phone rings. He answers, and shock registers on his face. “Oh, that’s too terrible. I hope she’ll be okay.”
Cleo has an ominous feeling that the news is devastating.
“It’s Selene’s manager. She’s been in a car accident, and they’re keeping it quiet for now. So that’s one guest off the list,” Jay explains, now searching on the internet for any details about Selene’s accident.
The browser shows various hot topics about Selene: her net worth, previous lovers, and award-winning actress awards. They all fill the web pages with her pictures. She’s got all the curves that everyone loves, but it’s her lily-white skin that makes her stand out. She’s half Australian and half Filipino, so it makes sense. Everyone loves making an actor out of someone whose roots are half elsewhere. It seems like an essential ingredient of being an actor is having fair skin—something Cleo doesn’t have. It’s easy for some talent agencies to recruit Westernized actors because it’s easy to look a part if you have the requisite equipment. That doesn’t mean you can act.
Thinking about it, Cleo remembers something her agent once said to her. “Cleo, as an actress, you sell your image, so everything has to be perfect from the shortest strand of your hair to your little toenail.”
Well, that certainly seems to be true. It’s the picture-perfect actors who seem to have the following. People are drawn primarily to their looks, and there’s a certain amount of logic to that. First impressions are usually through the eyes. Talent seems secondary, and you have to work hard to cultivate that, especially if you’re not half something else, and have brown skin. But that’s what sponsors are for—they can easily arrange the products and treatments that transform skin, and make you someone you’re not.
Cleo doesn’t mind what actors do to their faces or bodies, but she wants to be famous for what she does. Even if she has chocolate brown skin, she likes it that way. If she had more of her father’s features, she might look too much like the over-driven, hiding-in-work Everett.
“There’s no news about the accident yet,” Cleo comments.
“Hm . . . yes, but that’s not gonna last long for someone like Selene Montenegro.”
Someone like Selene Montenegro.
Cleo opens her Chirp account to check on Selene’s handle. Right, Selene has ten million followers and counting. Her profile picture is a close-up photo of her with sunglasses, while her cover photo shows her with Jake on the beach. Jake, as usual, looks good. He’s grinning and his muscles are flexed, which is typical of him. But, oh jeez, while he’s famous and together with Selene, Cleo never imagined her childhood friend looking like that.
Anyway, Selene Montenegro. She started acting when she was, like, seven, and then at age ten, she got a lead role, which ultimately led to more teleseryes and movies. At sixteen, she was paired off with Jake because they looked good together. They had sizzling chemistry, and everyone rode on that wave. The fans named the couple JaLene. To be fair to Selene, she’s not entirely superficial. After training for years and getting challenging roles, she’d grown as an actress—a chance Cleo didn’t get. She’ll always be the extra friend in a teleserye, but at least she’s succeeding as a model. It’s just that she just wants to be more than that.
“So, anyway, we’re still good even without Selene. I’m sure they can’t keep that accident a secret. I give it less than twenty-four hours,” Jay wagers. He crosses Selene’s name off the list and informs Cleo of the latest additional guests for tomorrow. “By the way, why are you here?”
“Just wanted to check in before I go home. I also left some folders on your desk yesterday.”
“Here.” Jay hands over the folders. “Everything’s going perfectly fine. We’re all cleared for tomorrow.”
Just then, Jay gets another call.
“Good evening. Yes, speaking.” Jay frowns. “Oh, I see. We understand. Thank you.”
“What is it?” Cleo asks.
Jay stares at her for a moment before finally breaking the news to her. “Direk Everett can’t come after all. His assistant sends his apologies. He’s way wrapped up in pre-prod on a movie set to take place in Alaska. Sorry, Cleo.”
Cleo gets Jay’s reaction. He probably knows Cleo’s expecting Everett in some way or another. “It’s fine. Thanks for the work today, Jay.”
“Get a good night’s sleep, Cleo.” Jay smiles. “You’re still the star of tomorrow’s premiere.”
The movie premiere is not going anywhere. Cleo will stand there and be proud of her movie. Anyway, Direk Everett can make up as many excuses as he wants, but she knows the truth. She gets it: her father, no surprise, chickened out. Again. He can command a crew of sixty and a cast of fifty, but he can’t face down an uncomfortable house even with a glass of champagne. He’s everything she’ll never be.
On the night of the premiere, Cleo stuns everyone with her royal blue strapless split wide-leg jumpsuit. Her discreetly made-up face looks natural with her glowing skin and flushed red cheeks. She looks divine next to Owen, who’s in a suit and bowtie. She gazes at him and then back at the flashing cameras with her lips pursed. Together, they’re the perfect pair, and in another lifetime, they can be the love team that everyone adores.
“Thank you for coming,” Cleo murmurs to Owen. She knows he doesn’t like this kind of event. He’s had enough publicity to last a lifetime. He hates the spotlight and attention, but for her, he’s more than willing to endure the public eye.
Owen takes Cleo’s bouquet so she can walk with ease. “Anything for you, babe. You ready for it?”
“Yeah,” Cleo says, smiling from one camera to another with Owen’s arm around her waist. “I forgot to tell you, but Direk Everett almost came tonight.”
Owen looks at Cleo. “What happened?”
Cleo shrugs, pulling him to the side to avoid any reporters or guests. There are still people milling around the mall, crowding the red carpet, and going gaga over their favorite actors. She knows that those mall-goers are simply after their favorite love teams and not her, but they add excellent volume at the cinema. They also say they can’t wait to watch the movie soon in theaters nationwide. But Cleo knows the film won’t be distributed nationwide. She’s not even sure if it’ll last three weeks.
“He says he’s busy,” Cleo replies. Inside the cinema, she and Owen walk to their reserved seats. He takes her hand, squeezing it to comfort and assure her everything will be fine. And it will. She’s got engagements, and her movie’s making a lot of buzz. She’s done fine without Direk Everett. So how is tonight any different?
The emcee stands in front of all the seats, microphone in hand as the production team enters the cinema. “Let’s all welcome, Out of the Club production house!”
Celebrities, directors, writers, executive producers, and researchers are all in their seats, giving the Out of the Club a round of applause. Cleo and Owen applaud enthusiastically. The production house is a great group of young people with bright ideas, and in Cleo’s eyes, they deserve this recognition even more than she does.
The emcee hands the mic to the director, Bryan. He takes it and breathes a sigh of relief. “Ah, finally, after more than a year of trying to produce this film, it’s come to fruition. It’s been constant push and pull. There’s not enough budget, the script needs to be re-written—it’s challenge after challenge. But we made it! And that’s all that matters. May I now welcome our ever-beautiful lead star, Cleo Walter!”
“Go for it,” Owen whispers encouragingly, and it honestly just gives Cleo the confidence to stand up and face the celebrities who are all just probably doing this out of politeness. Their managers probably think it’s also good publicity for them, but she doesn’t mind. They can be big stars outside, but no one can take the spotlight from her inside this cinema.
Cleo stands in front of everyone and says, “I went for this role because I wanted to be part of a story that speaks to me. It felt like a role that I could give myself to. It’s everything I thought it would be and more. I’m also forever grateful to this production team for being so kind to me. Thank you, and I hope everyone enjoys the show!”
There is loud applause and cheers from everyone. Cleo can’t honestly believe she just said that, but she means that. She trusts the production team and herself. All that’s left to do is to watch it. Soon, when everyone’s settled down, the film starts rolling. She isn’t watching it—thousand things are going on in her head. She’s questioning whether it’s good enough for this audience. Why is she not hearing their reactions? Did they fall asleep? Question after question comes to mind, her heart beats loudly in her chest, a drumroll to the beginning of a good show. This is probably the longest-running event of her life, and she just can’t wait for it to be over.
After what seems like forever, there is applause. Cleo thinks they appreciate how the film speaks so much of what it must be like to live with a mental disorder and how difficult it can be for patients whose family hardly ever visit.
This is great! Everyone’s left speechless, and that’s precisely what Cleo’s aiming for; she wants them to think about it, to feel as the characters feel, to see themselves in the story.
The after-party takes place in some fancy restaurant. Like any other premiere after-parties, the lead role gets a slew of congratulations. The funny thing about it is that when Cleo asks them what part of the movie they liked, they all have the same answer. Their remarks are so generic that none of their congratulations felt genuine to her. At this point, she’d rather hear a criticism than a compliment. But she smiles at them anyway and is grateful they even took the time to adjust their schedule for this.
“See? I told you they’d love it,” Owen says, drinking his wine. Sometimes, Cleo forgets how this place is so much more his world. He could be an actor, himself, for all the times he masks his face to others.
“Yeah, for sure,” Cleo says, a smile plastered on her face.
“Congrats, Cleo!” Guinevere, the beauty queen, and Jake’s twin sister says. “You deserve it.”
And that’s it. No, oh, your acting skills are on point! It’s always just “Congratulations!” She’s waiting for someone to say anything about the movie and her acting. She waits and drinks and eats with everyone. She gets none of it, and yet she celebrates it. The premiere is a success, and while the viewers’ reactions don’t fully satisfy her, she enjoys her time with them. She should just use this party to her advantage and make connections. It’s time to look for a new project. Again.
“Congratulations, Cleo. It’s brave of you to try an indie film,” says Carol, one of the celebrities in dark red lipstick. She’s been friends with Selene as far back as Cleo can remember.
“It’s not brave, but I wanted to try. It’s nice to be part of different things, and I like working with this company. Have you been in an indie movie ever?” Cleo replies.
Carol shakes her head. “I wouldn’t earn much from it. Anyway, you should take on another modeling project to recover from this film’s expenses. I’m sure you also contributed to the production given the limited budget.”
Cleo didn’t chip in any money. The production house took care of her. They’d arranged their budget the best they could to produce a film as good as that. But who’s she kidding? Some of these celebrities think she also produced the movie to make people notice her.
“This production team is the best. I didn’t do anything but act. Thank you for your suggestion, but I still have enough money.”
That’s true. Cleo did save a lot ever since she started working; magazines pay her a fair amount for being so good at the job. There were others who hinted she should stick to modeling, but she wanted more.
Carol shrugs. “If you need any modeling projects, let me know. I can connect you to the right people.”
“Sure, thank you,” Cleo says politely, not wanting to have a row with anyone.
“Thank you for the invite, but I have to go now. Taping day tomorrow and all that.” Carol winks at Cleo. “Love the movie!”
As time passes by, Cleo can feel her energy draining. These celebrities are, like, sucking the life out of her, but it’s part of the after-party. It’s a good thing Owen came with her even though he has his first exams tomorrow. He’s much more relaxed than she is, drinking his wine like he always does.
“Tell me if you want to go home and study or have an early night,” Cleo says, worried about Owen. “I want you to be rested for your exams.”
Owen smiles lazily at her. “I’m fine, babe. Let’s just enjoy the night. I’ve studied enough and this night is for you. It’s on my schedule, okay? Also, I’ve got us booked for this weekend in Hong Kong. I think we both deserve it after this week. Is that okay with you? It’s supposed to be a surprise, but I can’t bear to see you looking so anxious.”
“Of course!” Cleo smiles at him, finally relaxing a bit, until Owen’s pocket rings. “That my phone?”
“Yeah, I think so. Hold on.” Owen pulls up Cleo’s phone from his pocket. He’s always her carrier at parties. “Here.”
They both look at her phone screen; it’s an unknown number. Cleo hesitates then answers the ring. “Hello?”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t come.” It’s Everett. “You know how it is in production, but my spies tell me it’s good. Congratulations.”
Cleo’s waiting for the I’m proud of you, but when nothing comes, she says, “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
And Cleo does. She knows it’s the only thing her father can do. Talk to her over the phone and get the congratulations out of his mouth. Silence reigns looming and heavy, almost like the coming of a storm on a sunny day.
“We know how premieres are. I won’t really believe it until I see the movie with a real audience, but thank you,” Cleo says again, and then they hang up. It’s over, just like that. She heaves a sigh of relief. She took the call as if it had been from a director and not her father.
Cleo looks across the room and finds Direk Gary, her father’s longtime associate and some would say best friend—if Everett has friends. He’s looking at her. As soon as her eyes meet his, he looks away. He’s dressed for work, but his wife is well glammed up. for the premiere. Cleo doubts Gary thought the movie was good, but it’s nice of him to say so to Everett. She knows he’s the spy responsible for her father’s call.
As Cleo continues to watch him, Direk Gary gets a call. He answers. And as soon as he starts talking, he’s looking at her again.