T
hree weeks later
“I had to be practical. Of course I’m still sad that I lost my job, but everything was so sudden that I really wasn’t able to prepare myself. Financially, most of all.”
“Don’t you have money saved up?”
“I do, but it can only go so far. Living in Seoul isn’t exactly cheap... and you know I send Mom half my salary every time.”
Carlos sighed and handed Fi her cup of coffee, saying nothing else. They’d stopped by a nearby cafe on the way to their high school alma mater, where Fi was invited to speak about bullying to a room full of freshmen. At first, she wasn’t convinced she’d make an effective resource person, but Carlos said she only needed to be sincere, to speak from the heart.
An hour later, she opened her speech Mean Girls style:
“Everyone close your eyes. Raise your hand if you’ve ever been bullied, whether physically or verbally, by anyone in this room.” She waited around ten seconds and said, “Open your eyes.”
There was a buzz inside the auditorium; a good majority of the attendees realized they’ve all fallen victim to bullying. Fi commanded their attention again, asking them to close their eyes once more and, “Raise your hands if you have ever said or done anything unpleasant about your friend, whether they were aware of it or not.”
There was a reluctant show of hands. Fi waited a little longer this time until she felt she was looking at the same number as the first time.
“Open your eyes.”
The whispering grew louder, and Fi allowed the students a few seconds to let things sink in.
“I like that a lot of you were honest and brave enough to raise your hands for the second question. I didn’t think there’d be that many, but for that, I applaud you.” She clapped her hands and encouraged everyone to do the same until the walls of the auditorium echoed their applause.
“You might be wondering why there should be some kind of talk about bullying when we already know that it’s bad. But only knowing it is precisely why we need this kind of talk. There’s a difference between only knowing what is bad and doing something about it.”
As she continued with her speech, Fi spotted Carlos—fist raised, and with a proud smile across his face—watching her from the far end of the room. She smiled at him in return, thankful for a friend who always had her back, thousands of miles away or otherwise.
* * *
Back in Seoul, EG Project’s advocacy work continued right on the heels of completing their Asian tour. Coordinating closely with educators, they visited schools and talked to students about the Think Golden Thoughts campaign, offering a mini concert at each stop. Their song Golden also became a massive hit, hitting a hundred thousand downloads on the first day of digital release alone.
“On top of that, netizen backlash seems to have begun fading into oblivion,” Gabriel happily reported during a regular alignment meeting with the band and their staff. “The public’s opinion about EG Project have been mostly positive so far, and we’re glad to say that Originals from all over the world have been contacting us about activities they have been organizing to show support for Think Golden Thoughts. We’re collecting all of the information right now and handing it over to you boys once we’re done.”
“Good job, guys,” Justin said, clapping the shoulder of the band member closest to him, Yihwan.
“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Yihwan replied. Steven and Minchan nod in agreement.
“You think CEO Kang will finally be happy with the way things are turning out?” Minchan asked. It was a hypothetical question that made everyone present laugh, albeit softly.
The truth was that the interim CEO was already feeling the rug getting pulled out from underneath his feet ever since the rumors about CEO Kwon returning became fact. The older man was set to arrive in Seoul in a couple of weeks, and CEO Kang is, in a manner of speaking, threatened.
“Who cares about CEO Kang?” Steven scoffed. “Has anyone spoken to Fi lately?”
A brief silence spread across the room. Gabriel saw Yihwan throw a glance at him, but neither of them spoke up.
“I have!” Minchan excitedly replied. “She said she doesn’t have a permanent job yet, but it’s amazing that she gets to do these anti-bullying talks at her old school.”
Gabriel smiled, recalling how, during their last phone call, Fi had sounded so worried about standing in front of a crowd and talking to them about something so personal and so recent.
“So she’s basically doing what we’re doing?” Steven asked.
Minchan nodded. “Yup! Isn’t it great?”
“Gosh, I miss her a lot,” the drummer mused. His gaze fell on Justin, and he quickly said, “No offense, Justin. It’s just... Let’s be real. We’re all guys here and we’re kind of sick of each other’s faces.”
Justin laughed and waved his hand dismissively. “None taken. I get it.”
“So, are we done here?” Yihwan finally asked, checking his watch.
“Yes, we are,” Gabriel replied and started clearing the space in front of him while everyone else left their seats. As he shut down his laptop, he looked up to realize Yihwan had been standing there, angling for a handshake. He obliged. “Got somewhere you have to be?”
“Anniyo. Song number 10 is just calling to me. I have to get to it before I forget.”
“Oh. For the new album, right?”
“Yeah. Schedule’s tight, but I think we’re good.”
Both Gabriel and Yihwan left the room after everyone else, chatting on their way to the elevators. “What about that special concert you’re planning?” Gabriel asked. “Don’t think we’ve been updated about it.”
“Oh that’s definitely happening. We’ll let you know once we’ve finished planning it. You should come get some drinks with us sometime. That’s when all the magic happens.”
Gabriel laughed as the elevator doors opened. Both men stepped inside and pressed the buttons to their respective floors; Yihwan to the seventh, Gabriel to the fifth. “I’m just going to take your word for it. I’m leaving the country for a couple of days.”
“Oh.” Yihwan stepped out when the doors opened on the seventh floor. “Where are you going?”
Gabriel only responded to him with a smile.
* * *
“Anak…”
Fi looked up from her job listings to see her mom peek through her bedroom door. “You have a package delivery downstairs.”
Her brows creased in confusion. She wasn’t expecting any package. “But I didn’t order anything...”
Her mother only shrugged and walked away.
Scratching her head, Fi left her desk and made her way to the door, tying her unruly morning hair up in a bun. But when she opened the door to receive the supposed package, she saw Gabriel standing there, smile shining like the sun, and panicked.
She slammed the door in his face.
A knock. “…Fi?”
Jesus. God. I haven’t even washed my face yet, ugh! I swear to God, Gabriel Park. “What are you even doing here?” she asked, back pressed flat against the door as if she was trying to keep the big bad wolf from coming in.
“Delivering a package.”
“Last time I checked, you were a PR manager, not a messenger.”
“Are you mad at me or something? Why are we talking like this?”
“Because it’s the morning and I’m a mess?”
“I’d prefer the mess over a door.”
It was quiet for about a minute, and Fi pressed her ear against the door for a second before pulling the door open. Her eyes widened when Gabriel, who apparently was leaning against the door, tipped over and fell on the floor.
She laughed.
“Thanks so much for giving me a hand,” Gabriel muttered as he got up, making her laugh a little more. The awkwardness returned, however, when she realized they were standing in a small space between the door and the living room. Without wasting any more time, Gabriel simply pulled a package wrapped in brown paper out of his bag and handed it to her.
“As I was saying…”
“What is this?”
“Just open it.”
A shake of the head and a click of the tongue later, Fi had unwrapped the package and found herself staring at a g.o.d. Chapter 4 album, signed in silver ink by all five members. Her breath caught in her throat as she examined each signature—running her fingers over each name: Joon, Kyesang, Hoyoung, Danny, and Taewoo—in awe.
“How did you get this?”
“What do you mean? The album’s not out of circulation.”
“I meant the autographs.”
“I... made a few calls,” he said casually.
“The truth, Gabe.”
“What—it’s the truth! I made a few calls to JYP, asked if I could have an album signed by all five members, and…well, it took some time before I got each signature, so.”
“You actually met them?”
“Yes. I have photos in case you say ‘pics or it didn’t happen.’”
She clutched the album to her chest and looked up at him in tears. Apart from the movement EG Project began in Seoul, this was the first time in a long while someone went out of their way to do something nice for her. Her heart swelled with happiness. “Thank you so much, Gabe. This is amazing.”
The corners of Gabriel’s lips curled upward as he lifted one hand to the back of his head. It was as if he was embarrassed of what he was going to say next. “I listened to the song you told me about.”
“Did you like it?”
“Maybe.”
“There’s no maybe. You either like it or you don’t.”
“Well, the song talked about roads...”
“And?”
“I’d like it if you’d tell me you’re coming to take the same road with me.”
He produced a brown envelope from his bag and handed it to her. Fi didn’t have to ask. The AmEnt logo on the envelope gave it away.
She clutched the envelope to her chest. While thankful that the company’s doors were still open for her, she wasn’t sure she was ready to return to that world just yet. “I think...I’ll stay here for the meantime.”
“This is the road you want to take?”
“For now.”
Gabriel nodded, but continued to lobby his case, albeit weakly. “Things are changing back there, you know. I think this entire mess became an eye opener to everyone at AmEnt, and, well...I think it’s safe to say things are getting better.”
“That’s good to know,” Fi said, a bright smile appearing on her face. Returning to Amethyst Entertainment was an opportunity she knew she shouldn’t pass up, but she felt as though she needed to work on herself more now. To pay attention to herself a little more before exhausting her efforts toward another person or group of people once again. She loved her job—no doubt about it—but she made the mistake of allowing it to drown out all the self-respect she had. “But I’ll pass.”
“Okay, then...” Gabriel cleared his throat. “I guess I should go catch the next flight back now.”
“What? Did you fly here just to tell me this?”
“Yeah. And, well. There’s that.”
The timid way Gabriel pointed to the CD Fi now held made it difficult for her to keep her smile modest. “You really are this much of a pushover!”
“I told you. It depends on how much I like a person.”
“But you could’ve texted me. You could’ve sent this CD through a courier!”
“I needed to see you.”
Something in her head broke down when she heard him utter those words, and the smile on her face faded until she managed to blurt out: “Skype!”
Gabriel took a step forward. She took in a breath.
“That’s true.” His quiet, tender voice reminded her of that afternoon they spent watching the sunset at the bay. And his eyes—oh god, those eyes! Why did they look at her like he saw no one else but her? “But I can’t do this over Skype,” he whispered, bringing a hand to her face.
“Y-yeah. You c—” He leaned in slowly—very slowly, like he was giving her a chance to step back, push him away, kick his balls, whatever—but she remained still until he placed a kiss on her forehead. “—can’t do that. On Skype,” she stammered, certain her cheeks were now a bright shade of red.
“This too,” he said and slowly lifted her chin up. He must have seen the crimson on her cheeks, because he grinned like he was pleased with himself before kissing the tip of her nose.
“Gabe…” His name left her lips, soft and silent, like a reluctant prayer still needing to be heard. And maybe it was a prayer. For his gaze—this gaze, the one she had only ever encountered from an unwilling spectator’s point-of-view—to linger on her just a few seconds longer.
“Filipina.”
Everything about Gabriel started to overwhelm her when he called her name, every syllable uttered with affection. And then, there was the feel of his warm hand brushing across her cheek, fingers grazing her ear until his palm meets the nape of her neck. There was the sight of his Adam’s apple quivering as he spoke, and the familiar scent of him she wouldn’t soon forget: wood musk with a faint hint of citrus, his cologne.
“You’re my What If,” he continued. “And I don’t want that question hanging over my head any longer.”
Closing the gap between them, his lips sought an answer in the form of a kiss. Tentative yet tender, and given twice. Without hesitation, she kissed him back.
It was the response he wanted, if the smile that appeared on his lips was anything to go by.
Fi smiled too. She was glad it was Gabriel this time around.