Chapter 25

Oh, You Think You’re Done? It’s Only the Beginning of a Brand-New World

 

 

 

Cleo’s attended a lot of after-parties before, but this after-party? She owns it. Not just the staircase she’s standing on with her black studded ankle strap stilettos, but every surface her feet meet.

Beneath the posh chandelier, guests and beauty queens fill the room, murmuring among themselves about their plans. They might not have won the crown, but they know pretty well they’re still going to places—and this is especially true of those who came from the same camp as Cleo. Elle has assured them all that it’s not the end of everything.

Meanwhile, Cleo gets her congratulations. Reporters and journalists alike take her side of the story, and once she’s begun talking, there is no stopping her from spilling out how she’s worked hard to get the crown. She’s squashed any doubts and rumors the people might have about her. No one is going to ruin this day for her. They’re going to listen to her story, and if it still doesn’t convince them, then it doesn’t matter. She’s already won.

“Enjoying the crowd?” Elle appears next to Cleo in her capelet sheath dress. She’s got nude lipstick on and an award-winning smile, greeting the guests in her best regal form as always. There’s no one like her, and she knows it.

Cleo looks down below, the billowing, colorful gowns of the dancers sweep the floor, and looking at all those beautiful faces, she knows she’s finally stepped up her game. Once upon a time, she would have been terrified at the very idea of being in the same room as these people. Not anymore. She’s made a place for herself here, and it’s apparently a very big one.

“Maybe,” Cleo teases, chuckling before turning to Elle. “Thank you for this, Elle. Really. I can’t wait to be back home.”

“It’s all you, Cleo.”

“Where have you been all this time, by the way?” Cleo hasn’t seen Elle for what seems like forever. She was hoping Elle would be the one to guide her all the way through as she had been for Thea, but the training has always come from Guinevere and Deborah.

Elle looks hard at Cleo, which makes Cleo remember the no-questions-allowed rule. “I’ve been busy, if you’re so curious about it.”

“Oh. I just thought you’d—”

“Train you personally?” Elle finishes for Cleo.

Cleo presses her lips together.

“I will,” Elle informs Cleo, watching the others down below make connections. “You think this is the end? It’s only just the beginning.”

Cleo furrows her eyebrows. “But I’ve won already.”

“In the nationals, yes, you did. But you have to go further and be bolder than ever. You’ve caught the hearts of the Filipinos, but how about the world?”

“I haven’t thought of that yet,” Cleo admits, smiling at the guest who passed by and offered his congratulations. “Thank you.”

“Cleo, you are going to be representing the Philippines. You will carry the red, white, and blue flag emblazoned with stars and golden sun.”

Cleo smiles at the vivid imagery, but then anxiety gnaws at her. “I already have a crown. What if I’m asking too much and end up being a disappointment?”

“A Lady Pearl of the Philippines who stops short of the next title,” Elle pauses and then continues, “is just admitting you’re an actress who became a beauty queen. You won’t know until you try.”

Elle leaves Cleo after that, approaching the men in suits, smiling, and making small talk. Cleo’s mentor’s good at that—knowing exactly what to say in every situation, managing to keep the men on her leash. She’s not just a queenmaker; she’s a kingmaker. In a crowd of men, she knows how to stand out.

Cleo’s decided to mingle with the others. She steps out at the center of the ballroom and gets her photos taken. Chezka, Nadia, and Julia have joined her in the photo as they’re all from the same beauty camp.

“I guess congratulations are in order,” Nadia says casually, posing in front of the camera.

Cleo smiles at the camera. “Thank you.”

“Not that you deserve it.”

“Nadia!” Chezka scolds Nadia, pinching her arm.

“Fine.” Nadia gives out, leaning in close to Cleo for the picture. “Just to make things clear, this doesn’t mean we’re friends. Congratulations.”

Cleo smiles at that. Julia says the same thing to her, but she’s much freer now as if she’s glad the national pageantry is over. In between photos, Dom slides into their group, a bouquet of roses in his arms.

Cleo puts her hand over her heart, touched. “Aw, thank you, Dom, this is so sweet of you and—”

“Shush. This isn’t from me.” Dom quickly transfers the bouquet of roses to Cleo’s arms.

The bouquet is beautiful and classic. The aroma fills Cleo’s nose, a perfect honey meadow kind of perfume. It reminds her of a love once shared in sweet stolen moments. And then she finds a card between its blooms. She rips open the card and reads the message.

“Congratulations, and good luck in all your future endeavors.”

Cleo doesn’t need to know who the roses are from. Even after the relationship ended, Owen is still the same man she knew. And though they themselves might change over time, the history they shared is theirs forever. This gift is a breath of fresh air after going through so much for days, weeks, months. She didn’t have the time to sulk or mourn, and Owen knows that. He knows she’s not going to stop, and these roses are his message that though they may not be as they were before, she’ll always be in his heart. They’re better together, but they’re at their best when they grow on their own.

“He’s a really great guy, huh?” Chezka glances at Cleo’s roses.

A tear escapes Cleo’s eye. She smiles her best in front of the camer, and says, “He truly is.”

 

 

Dinner proceeds without a hitch. The slightly formal after-event party has turned into a full-blast party after everyone’s had their fill. The music shifts into a wild party song, and Chezka, being such a wild beauty queen, rips the fabric of her dress.

“Chezka,” Cleo calls out, and while she attempts to make it sound like a scolding, she ends up laughing the entire time. “Elle’s going to kill us!”

“Go on.”

Cleo and Chezka turn to Elle, gawking at her command. Elle’s smiling at them, and this is probably one of the almost-never times they’ll get to see her like this.

“Enjoy this time. You deserve it.” Elle winks at them.

Cleo’s stupefied. “Who are you, and what have you done to Elle?”

“Come on, before she changes her mind!” Chezka pulls Cleo onto the platform, where Nadia invited a live band to perform. “Let’s all show them we’re not just princesses with tiaras. We can also rock!”

As soon as everyone hears that, the grace and etiquette that have ruled these ladies are thrown out of the window. They started tearing the fabrics of their dresses and messing up their hair, jumping up and down along with the beat of the band. It’s a crazy party, and Cleo loves it. Just for tonight, she can let loose, and for once there’s no hostility in the room: no judging stares nor glares.

This is how it should be between women—no catfights, no sabotage, just women having fun and enjoying the night.

“NO LIEEE!” they scream.

Suddenly, Sean Paul’s No Lie is blasting through the speakers, and everyone’s serious about making it the best night of their lives. Cleo sings along with Chezka, swaying their hips from side to side. As they dance, they are caught on camera, and from the corner of her eyes, Cleo sees Erik going around the room to snap those photos—no filters, just their raw and beautiful faces.

Cleo drops down on the floor—quite gracefully—and latches onto Erik’s arm. “Tell me you’ll also dance.”

“I don’t dance.” Erik pulls away from Cleo. “Enjoy your party, Lady Pearl of the Philippines.”

“Don’t you know how to have fun?” Cleo teases.

Erik puts his camera back into his bag and places it on the table. He smirks at her. The dimple on his right cheek makes him look sly and cunning. He rubs his hands together and then jumps into the crowd, creating a space for himself. Getting everyone’s attention, he breakdances, giving the audience a spectacular view of his power moves. His footwork is astounding.

“God, he’s spinning his head,” Chezka tells Cleo, already cheering for Erik. “Was he a dancer in his past life?”

“I have no idea!”

“He’s a heartbreaker, isn’t he? He’ll not only spin your head, but your heart, too,” Chezka sighs dreamily.

Cleo stares at Chezka, amused.

“What?” Chezka demands.

“I thought you liked Nadia.”

Chezka shrugs unapologetically. “I’m just appreciating the view. You should, too.”

“You mad woman!” Cleo laughs out loud as they watch Erik from the sides. And when he finishes his moves, every girl in the room swoons.

Erik stands up and offers his hand to Cleo. “Shouldn’t the Lady Pearl show off some moves too?”

“I don’t—”

Too late. Chezka has pushed Cleo to Erik. Balancing herself on her feet, she smiles wryly at Erik.

“Just follow my lead,” he says “Dance however you want.”

Then Erik lets loose with his dance moves, again, spellbinding to watch. Cleo thinks it’s crazy, but she dances anyway. She’s just shaking her hips and spinning round and round, getting herself dizzy. Thankfully, he’s there to steady her. She’s not a good dancer, but she’s having fun. Eventually, everyone joins again, the party floor is filled with giggles and laughter.

The electrified rush pushes Cleo to move her body to the rhythm of the music. Her sweat doesn’t even stop her. She’s tired, but she keeps going. She can be a jellified version of herself, and she’ll still be dancing just because she wants to. The hours pass by, and the drinks just keep coming. Lady Rizal’s drunk and slurring her words, but Cleo figures they mean “congratulations.” The other girls are still in high spirits, eating desserts and holding their friend’s hand, who seems to be sobbing. They’re all a little drunk, and some are full-on drunk, but it’s their secret after-after-party of a lifetime.

“Honey.” Dom taps Cleo’s back. “Hate to be the one to ruin your party, but someone wants to see you at the garden.”

“Who?”

Dom stares at Cleo and then drops his head on her shoulder.

 

“You’re drunk, Dom.” Cleo almost loses her footing. “C’mon, sit down for a minute.”

“Let me help,” Erik offers, already placing Dom’s arm around his neck.

“I have to go somewhere. Can you take care of him for a while?”

Erik lifts Dom like he weighs practically nothing. “What do you think?”

“Thanks!” Cleo smiles at Erik before running off to the back, where the garden is. Her instinct says the person waiting for her is someone special, and maybe her heart does a little thump, thump. It’s not that she’s still expecting things to work out with that person, but perhaps this will be the final closure on . . . .

Cleo stops in her tracks. The man in the pavilion garden has his back on her, but she can guess who it is, and she doesn’t like the fear that comes with seeing him. And then she remembers who she is right now—she’s the Lady Pearl of the Philippines. No one’s allowed to doubt her today. She’s proven herself more than enough.

Slowly, Cleo walks over to where the man is. “Nice to see you here, Direk Everett.”

Direk Everett turns to Cleo, and he’s still as charming as ever in his black suit. He has a few graying hairs, but his blonde hair and icy blue eyes never fail to intimidate whoever comes his way. He’s someone who knows what he wants and will clearly do anything to get it, so whatever he’s coming here for, he’s hoping to get it from her. But for the moment she’s willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Congratulations,” Direk Everett says, straightening his tie as if he’s been practicing saying that word for days now.

Cleo comes close to Direk Everett and locks eyes with him. “That’s not what I need to hear from you.”

“You’re not going to make it easy for me, are you?”

Cleo stares at Direk Everett.

Direk Everett sighs. “How can you wear the crown that’s rightfully your mother’s and be so different from her?”

“Maybe because she’s my mom . . . and you’re my dad,” Cleo fills. He’s still her father, even though he hasn’t been her dad for a long time now. It’s not her fault she can’t be like the other actor kids he’d wanted her to be like in the past. When she was young, he’d always liked Guinevere and Jake, but ultimately, he realized that she could never be like them.

Something in Direk Everett’s face changes. He’s not so intimidating now, and Cleo senses he’s let his guard down. “Cleo, I didn’t leave the family. I tried my best to play the part.”

“Just like acting?”

Direk Everett shakes his head and continues, “I didn’t leave because of you. Your mother sent me away because I wanted other things in life. I couldn’t make a career with a family slowing me down. I admit I wasn’t ready to be a husband and a father. That’s not what I wanted in life. I became restless, always jumping from one place to another for weeks and then months. Eventually it was as if I was never at home at all. I didn’t want to compete with Gary and his children. They’re great, and you and I, at that time, were just nobodies.”

Oh, the audacity of this man.

“You didn’t want to be with a nobody?” Cleo’s clenching and unclenching her fists. The party she was enjoying a while ago just turned sour. This breakup with her dad is far worse than her breakup with Owen.

“I was selfish, yes, but I’m still a father, Cleo. I did my best to make a future for you. I have watched you ever since I left. Every reel, teleserye, movie, anywhere you were. Even as an extra. A talent. I watched over you because you’re my daughter,” Direk Everett explains, defeated.

It all clicks in Cleo’s head. Behind the scenes, her father, Direk Everett, tried to fix things for her. He probably pestered talent agencies and managers to take her in. He made the movie with Direk Gary possible. It wasn’t Direk Gary’s idea. Not even Jake’s. It was her father. He was, in a way, rigging success for her to atone for what her mother was deprived of. She’s baffled. All this time, everyone’s been right about her—she only got all those roles because of her father.

“I wanted you to follow in my footsteps, Cleo. I did. I didn’t want you to be Lady Somewhere.”

“Why?” Cleo says through gritted teeth, daring her father to come up with a good reason.

Direk Everett just smiles and says, “Because I’m still protecting your mother’s dignity. The pageant season is a nightmare. It’s my hell loop, so when I saw you become the Lady Pearl of the Philippines, I knew trouble was around the corner. I can only influence so many people, Cleo. Pageantry is different from acting. I just want to let you know that I can’t help you from here.”

Cleo laughs mockingly at Direk Everett.

“There’s nothing funny about it, Cleo.”

“I already talked to Mom about it. Of course, you don’t know that. You’re not here. Do you think I’m just going to go withdraw and go back the same way Mom did? No. I don’t recall asking for your help, either. Acting didn’t work out because you kept meddling, but you have no clue as to what I want in life. You don’t know me. I won’t let myself get in a hell loop. Good luck with life, Dad,” Cleo says, leaving him alone to his thoughts.

Elle’s right. Cleo needs to win the Queen of the Universe crown. This is her territory, and her dad can watch her take the crown. She doesn’t need him, and she certainly doesn’t want to be like him because as much as he’s proclaimed himself to be successful, he’s all alone.

Cleo’s not alone in this. She has a good team, and she only needs to believe in herself. She won’t let her father take this away from her too.