Chapter 3 At The Night Bar

I looked at my mother and couldn't stop myself from sighing.

"Mom, you shouldn't ask questions like that because you already know the answer. And besides, why would I get tired when you're right here with me? Being tired is always part of life, but I don't pay attention to it because I'm happy as long as I'm with you two," I said before standing up and placing my plate in the sink.

I didn't mean to sound so emotional, but sometimes it was hard to explain things without my heart getting involved. I knew Mom worried about me. She always did. Maybe too much.

"I'm sorry for asking," she said softly, her eyes lowering to the table.

"It's okay," I replied, forcing a small smile. "You're just being a mom."

"Are you leaving, Sis?" Riri asked. I turned to her while picking up my bag.

"Yes. I need to hurry or I'll be late for work."

"Be careful," she said, her voice soft but serious, the way kids sound when they try to act like adults.

Before leaving, I said goodbye to them and reminded them to close and lock the door. I had the key to the apartment. Better safe than sorry-there were still a lot of lunatics in this area. Some people thought it was rude to say that, but anyone who had lived here long enough knew it was just being realistic.

The hallway outside our apartment was dim and smelled faintly of damp walls and old paint. The lightbulb near the stairs flickered like it was tired of doing its job. I took the steps two at a time, my mind already counting the minutes until I had to clock in.

As soon as I stepped out of the old building we were renting, I was greeted by the noise of people talking downstairs. Someone was laughing loudly. A baby was crying. Two neighbors were arguing over borrowed money. It was chaotic, but in a strange way, it felt familiar-almost comforting.

Our apartment is on the third floor. The place is crowded, and only motorcycles and tricycles can pass through the narrow streets. The walls of the nearby buildings were so close together that sometimes it felt like the sky had been cut into small pieces. The main road is still a bit far, so when you ride a jeep or taxi, you still have to walk before reaching the exit.

"Going to work?"Mrs. Lisa asked from her small sari-sari store, her hands busy counting coins.

"Yes," I replied with a small smile.

She nodded, the way adults do when they silently acknowledge how hard someone is working. Some people here already knew me because they saw me almost every day-walking to the bookstore in the morning and heading to the bar at night. Sometimes I wondered if they thought I never slept.

The air was humid, the kind that clung to your skin even after the sun had gone down. I adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder and started walking toward the corner of the street.

That's when I noticed a black car parked near the corner, the engine still running. A tall man leaned casually against the hood, one hand in his pocket. I couldn't recognize him at first because of the dim light, but something about his posture felt familiar. Too familiar.

And I wasn't wrong.

"Jerome? What are you doing here?" I asked in surprise as I stepped closer.

"Didn't I tell you we'd go to the bar together? I'm picking you up after your shift," he said, straightening up.

"And why would you do that?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing. I just want to help," he replied. "Besides, aren't you scared of walking alone at night? You're still a woman."

I rolled my eyes but smiled a little as I got into the passenger seat. "I can defend myself," I said while fastening my seatbelt.

"Even so, you should stop walking alone at night. There are a lot of crazy people around Manila," he said as he started the engine.

The car smelled faintly of coffee and something minty. It was quiet inside, a sharp contrast to the noisy street outside.

"I've been walking alone for years. I'm still alive," I muttered.

"Barely," he teased.

I shook my head, staring out the window as the car moved forward. The city lights blurred into streaks of yellow and white. Jeepneys passed by, filled with tired workers and sleepy students. Sometimes I wondered if all of us were just trying to survive one day at a time.

Actually, Jerome and I became close the day I first walked into his bookstore.

***Flashback***

I was walking around, looking for a job, my feet were already sore from hours of searching. When I saw a sign outside a small bookstore looking for staff to man the counter, I felt like the universe had finally decided to be kind to me.

I went inside, my heart pounding with nervous hope.

But what I didn't expect was a loud voice that nearly made my soul leave my body.

"WELCOME TO MOM AND SON'S BOOKSTORE!"

I jumped in surprise and covered my ears. Some of the customers even turned to look at us.

"T-Thank you," I said awkwardly, my face burning.

"Are you here to buy books?" he asked with a wide smile.

The way he smiled felt like we already knew each other, like we were old friends who had just met again.

"Uh... no. I'm here to... apply for the job," I said, pointing at the sign outside.

"Ah! Okay. Come on, let's go to my mom."

Before I could react, he grabbed my arm and dragged me toward where his mother was, leaving me wondering if this was how job applications worked now.

***End of Flashback***

That same day, after I got hired, Jerome practically became my shadow. Wherever I went in the bookstore, he followed. He would explain every single book on the shelves like he personally knew the authors. He was so talkative that sometimes I wondered if his mouth ever got tired.

The car slowed as we reached the bar's parking lot. Neon lights flickered outside, casting colorful reflections on the wet pavement. Music thumped faintly through the walls of the building, even from outside.

When Jerome and I got out, we entered through the back door-the entrance for staff. The smell of alcohol hit me immediately, mixed with sweat, perfume, and smoke.

"Yo! You two are here!" Jerome's bandmates greeted us as soon as we walked in.

They looked relaxed, laughing among themselves as they adjusted their instruments. There were already quite a few people inside. Later tonight, this place would be packed to the point where you couldn't even move.

I greeted his friends politely before heading to the locker room to change into my uniform. Mae, one of my coworkers-and my friend-was already there, fixing her hair in the mirror.

"You're here early. Were you here before me?" I asked.

"I just arrived too. Were you with Jerome?" she asked suddenly, her eyes narrowing playfully.

I smiled, and she raised an eyebrow.

"I don't like that smile, Lyra," she said, shaking her head.

"Why? Is it bad to smile? Or are you jealous because Jerome is your crush?" I teased.

She smacked my arm hard. "Bitch! I bought a book from the bookstore where you work!"

"Really? Book your face, Mae. Didn't you just go there the other day? You even bought two books."

"Yes! I already finished reading them!"

"Wow, a certified bookworm," I said, laughing.

"Hurry up. One of our coworkers said the regular VIP customers are coming later. I heard they're rich and always stay in the VIP room."

"Do you know what's dangerous, Mae? Talking too much without being blessed," I said, pretending to scold her.

She just laughed, already tying her apron.

After our little fight in the locker room, we quickly went out before our boss could catch us fooling around.

This job is seriously exhausting. We go back and forth carrying orders for customers nonstop. Trays full of drinks felt heavier with every step. Aside from getting dizzy, my feet burned from all the walking. The bar was packed now, and everyone wanted something-more drinks, more food, more attention.

I really hate the smell of alcohol-especially when it comes from people's mouths. It makes me feel like I'm about to throw up any second. Funny how I get more nauseous than the people who are actually drinking.

The music was loud, the lights too bright, the laughter too sharp. Everything felt overwhelming.

I leaned against the bar counter for a moment, resting my head because I was so dizzy. My legs felt like they might give out if I stood still for too long, so I forced myself to straighten up again.

And speaking of those VIP customers...

I still haven't seen them enter.

Not that I care.

...Right?