The Magical Bra

COCO'S POV

I've been standing in line at this office for almost an hour, my last attempt for the day. I've been staring at the clock hanging on the wall in front of me, counting the minutes until my afternoon class starts. But I'm still stuck here due to the sheer number of applicants. I can't just leave, hoping that luck is on my side here.

Luck? That's what I told myself at the five places I applied to earlier. But they all rejected me. These companies are like guys nowadays, so picky. I'm the one applying, after all. I might not be beautiful, but at least I'm kind.

I've been roaming around our city since this morning, searching for a job, enduring hunger and thirst. Yet, every place with an "urgent hiring" sign didn't accept me. They didn't directly say I was rejected. They just mentioned they'd call me or that they already found someone for the position I wanted.

Their faces, though. I know they just don't want to hire me, even though they haven't hired anyone yet. I'm aware that my appearance is the issue, making it hard for them to accept me.

This is the problem when you apply for a job in the Philippines. If you're not attractive, it's tough to find employment. They'd think you're an ex-convict or an escapee. Some even asked if I sell drugs or used to be involved in abortion. If you're ugly, they'll have a negative impression of you. Wait, why are people's attitudes so bad nowadays?

I sighed and prayed earnestly to myself. I hope they hire me this time. I really need the money. Yesterday, my school dean told me I had to pay half of my tuition fees. The school rules changed, and my full scholarship became half.

If only my dad hadn't died two years ago, I wouldn't be struggling like this. Our bakery, our source of income for years, burned down. It caused my dad's death. Everything we saved went up in smoke. Our house was also consumed by fire. My dad's savings went to his funeral, and what's left is dwindling because of my daily expenses.

Actually, I wouldn't mind stopping my education to make things easier. I could focus on finding a job. But every time I remember my dad's advice when he was still alive, it strengthens my resolve to continue my studies. He always told me that no matter what happens, I need to finish my education. Everything in the world fades and can be stolen, but knowledge is a lifelong treasure.

Even if I'm the only one left in my life now, I won't give up. I just think about my dad to gather the courage to face life's challenges. I know these are just trials for me, and after this, a beautiful rainbow awaits me at the end. The beginning is always tough, but the ending is sweet. How sweet? I don't know yet. I'm not even at the end, right?

"Concepcion Cordova?" I looked at the door when someone called my name. The woman, probably a secretary, was peeking through. "Concepcion Cordova? Are you still here?" she repeated.

"That's me!" I said energetically, quickly standing up and fixing myself. As I walked towards the door, my fellow applicants were staring at me.

They were still whispering and laughing to themselves as if they found something amusing. I don't care. I walked with my head held high, even though I knew they were secretly making fun of me. Well, how can they not when they're all beautiful, tall, and look like beauty queens? They're like precious diamonds, and I'm just a common stone. The difference in their beauty and mine is vast. But still, I don't care. I'm intelligent, after all.

"Are you aware that you're applying for a modeling job?" the woman who called me asked when I was in front of the door.

I smiled, "Yes, of course." I smiled even more at her.

"Are you sure? You know this is modeling?" she insisted, looking at me seriously.

"Yes," I nodded, "I'm very much aware."

"Really, are you sure?" she repeated.

My forehead creased in annoyance, "Yes, Miss. Do you think I'm stupid? I'm a university scholar, and my IQ is high. I can read, for your information, so I know that I'm applying for a modeling job." I replied irritated.

"Well, if you know, why did you apply here?"

"Huh?" I asked in surprise.

She shook her head, "Nothing, girl. Go inside. Good luck with your application." she said and smiled, even though I knew her smile was fake.

I murmured to myself and finally entered, closing the door. I wonder what that girl is thinking. She probably sees me as foolish and unable to read. Excuse me. I'm not bragging, but I'm intelligent. I know that I'm applying for a modeling job.

I adjusted myself again once I was inside the office. I saw an older man sitting at the desk in front of me. He was focused on reading what was likely my resume. When he looked up, I immediately smiled and approached him.

"Good afternoon, sir," I greeted respectfully.

"Same to you, Ms. Cordova." he replied, "You do know that this is a modeling job, right?"

"Huh?" I replied in surprise, "Yes, sir. I'm very aware. In fact, I've read the signboard so many times before entering your premises. I'm very much aware that I am applying for a modeling job." I switched to English to impress him.

But he didn't smile.

"You know this is a modeling job, but you still applied. Aren't you aware that in the modeling industry, we only accept a woman with stunning beauty and a splendid body?" he asked, "Your height, Ms. Cordova, doesn't meet our qualifications. 5'4? We need a woman who is 5'8. A woman with good sinuosity, impressive and nice boobs, a well-formed butt. This is modeling, Ms. Cordova, and not just some ordinary establishment."

I swallowed, "So, you're saying?"

He cleared his throat, "I am saying that a woman like you doesn't fit in modelling. You're too small for this kind of job. You don't have a nice body. Your boobs are too tiny. If you're wearing a man's clothes, I could even mistake you for a man. Your butt is so puny. You have a straight body," he continued, "But on the other hand, your resume is too impressive. You're a University scholar, right? You're a smart woman, but I'm sorry. We need a woman who has beauty."

I nodded even though his words hurt. I kept a smile on my face.

"You may go now, Ms. Cordova."

"Thank you, sir," I said, bidding farewell and walking towards the door to leave.

Before I could completely exit, the sir I spoke to had one more thing to say.

"Try to apply in a call center agent. You know, where your face is hiding while doing a job. I am sure you would be accepted immediately," he said, smiling, "Have a nice day, Ms. Cordova."

I just smiled back at him, and as I turned away, I couldn't help but grimace to myself. Another added insult. As I left his office, I smiled, though I wanted to cry at this moment. I've never been so humiliated before. This is the first time with the companies I tried applying to.

When I was younger, I used to be teased by my playmates for being ugly. They said I wouldn't find a man who would love me because of my looks. I would go home crying to Papa, and he would comfort me, saying I wasn't ugly and that, for him, I was the most beautiful girl. After that, I would feel okay.

As long as one person believed I wasn't ugly, I was happy. I shook off every insult thrown at me since then. But now that the one person who was important to me is gone, I have no one to defend me.

Hay, Coco. Don't cry. It's just that. Many jobs are waiting for you. You won't lose your self-esteem just because some stupid establishment insulted your whole existence. You weren't raised like that by your dad. He wanted you to become a strong and independent woman. There are jobs out there that won't judge you based on external beauty but on the content of your mind and knowledge.

As I left the office, I quickly wiped the tears from the corner of my eyes and smiled.

"I may not have gotten a job today, but that's okay. I'll go home first and look for another job later. I'm not ugly. They just don't know how to appreciate God's abstract art."

I continued walking and stopped at the jeepney stop on my way to my small apartment. I'll take a shower first and change into my uniform. Then, later on, I'll continue my job search.

While waiting for a jeepney, a bus stopped in front of me. I couldn't help but smile when I saw a picture of the only man I admire. Heron Del Valle, the number 1 hottest actor in the Philippines and my schoolmate. Isn't that cool? I go to a rich school because of the scholarship I got.

Heron looks so handsome in the picture. It seems like he has a new endorsement again. It's for a famous local clothing brand. Heron is shirtless, wearing only black pants. He's holding his belt, seemingly pulling it down. Then, he's smiling. That famous mysterious smile of his.

I just stared at Heron's picture because of that smile. I don't know if it's just me or what. But his smile seems unreal. It doesn't reach his eyes because there's no joy in it. He just smiled. A kind of smile that doesn't contain happiness. He's the only actor in the country with that kind of smile, hence the name mysterious smile. Even at school, when I see him surrounded by his fans, he still wears that smile. No joy. No sparkle in his eyes.

I wonder why? Is he not truly happy even though almost all women and LGBTQ+ in the Philippines are crazy about him?

Oh, darn! What am I thinking again? Several jeepneys passed by, but I was lost in my thoughts about Heron. I always end up spacing out when I think about him.

When another jeepney finally came by, I hopped on.

--------------------------

"Oh, why do you look like it's Good Friday on your face? You should be smiling broadly now because your Heron is downstairs. Those annoying girls here at school are going crazy again."

I glanced at Janice as she spoke. I didn't even notice that my one and only friend here in school had arrived at the balcony of our classroom. We were waiting for our next class, and my mind was so preoccupied that I didn't realize Heron had already arrived at school. I quickly shifted my gaze downward and saw that he was indeed being swarmed by girls, as usual. He always gets that attention whenever he comes to school.

"Sigh," I heaved a sigh while watching Heron being surrounded by admirers, his bodyguards doing their best to keep fans at bay.

"Why the deep sighs, Coco? What's your problem?" Janice asked. "Did those idiots here at school bully you again? Tell me who, and I'll give them a piece of my mind!"

"Seriously, no," I replied, redirecting my gaze to Janice. "I'm not bullied. One stupidity is enough, you know!"

"Good for you," my friend laughed. "So, what's up? You look troubled again. Tell me, and maybe I can help."

I sighed again before gathering my thoughts to confide in Janice.

"I need a job. My savings are running out. Then, the dean said yesterday that I need to pay half of my tuition fee. Our tuition is P88,000, so that means I need to pay P44,000. Where will I get that? I still have to pay for my rented apartment. How am I going to survive this? I might need to sell my body or become an organ donor. Want to buy my intestines, Jan? Or if you prefer, I can offer my lungs. They're fresh. I don't smoke or drink alcohol!"

She slapped me on the head. "You really are crazy, you know that?" she scolded. "Sell your body? Do you want me to beat you up? You're a smart woman, but sometimes your brain malfunctions!"

"Just kidding," I grinned. "I won't do that, really. I'll never sell my precious body. But kidding aside, I really need a large amount of money."

"Do you want me to lend you some? How much do you need?" she asked. "And you should leave your apartment. Move to my condo; it's quite spacious. It can fit the two of us."

"Oh no, Jan!" I refused. "I still owe you, and I don't want to add to that."

"I'm not collecting. What are friends for if not to help you with your problems?" she rolled her eyes. "Hurry up. How much do you need?"

"Come on, Janice. I don't want to. People might think that the only reason we're friends is because I'm after your money."

"Don't think about what those darn classmates of ours are thinking. I might just step on them," she replied, adopting her Amazonian stance. "Go on. How much?"

"Ugh, Janice. I don't want to. Maybe our classmates will really think that I'm only friends with you because of money, and that's why we became friends."

"Don't even think about what those darned classmates are thinking. I might just step on them," she responded with a smirk. "Come on. How much?"

"Fine, Janice. Forget it. I might as well sell my organs," I teased.

"Stop joking around. Now, tell me, how much do you need?" she insisted.

"Okay, Janice. Just a joke," I chuckled. "I really need a job."

"Job?" Janice pondered. "I know something. Our company is looking for a model for the clothes they're releasing in the market. Interested? I can recommend you."

"Is it for Halloween costumes?" I teased.

"No, come on!" she playfully hit my arm. "I think it's for casual wear. I'm not sure. I'll call Mommy later."

"No need!" I said. "Do you really think I can get into your company? With this face?" I pointed to my face. "This is only fit for Halloween. For horror themes, you know, like a scarecrow in haunted houses or an extra ghost in scary movies. Self-deprecating humor."

"You're not ugly, Coco!" my ever-supportive friend exclaimed. "You just don't know how to groom yourself. You're beautiful. I envy your eyes, they're sky blue."

"Only my eyes are beautiful," I laughed.

My eyes are indeed sky blue because my Papa is half American, and I inherited my eyes from him. The rest, I got from my Mama, who I've never met, and I don't even know if she's alive or already gone.

Janice and I continued talking about job options she knew about. However, it turned out that all she mentioned were modeling opportunities. I didn't tell her that I applied earlier at a modeling establishment and got rejected. It came with a bonus of insults. I didn't want Janice to get annoyed again. She really doesn't like it when people insult me. She doesn't want to see me cry, and when she does, she turns into an Amazon.

The afternoon quickly passed, and everyone headed home. Janice bid me farewell, mentioning that she had plans with her mom. Janice comes from a wealthy family, both her parents being models, which explains her beauty and modeling potential. I often wonder why we've been friends since the first year until now, my fourth year. All I know is that I have a best friend, and not all rich people have bad attitudes. Janice is the living proof of that.

I grabbed my bag and left the classroom. I was bumped into by three classmates while walking.

"Excuse me! You're already ugly, and yet you're blocking the way!" one of them said, and they all burst into laughter.

I just ignored them because I was busy thinking about where to apply for a job tonight. Maybe in bars? No, I won't become a GRO (Guest Relations Officer). Maybe I'll try being a waitress.

Before I completely left the school, I saw Heron's car passing in front of me. The window was open, and I saw him with closed eyes and a headset on. Heron looks handsome even with his eyes closed. Could there be someone ugly in that man?

I smiled, momentarily entertaining the thought of him being my boyfriend. But my smile quickly faded as reality slapped me. It would never happen. Heron is millions of kilometers away from me in terms of wealth and social status.

Someone like him would likely end up with a beautiful and wealthy girl. Who in their right mind with such charm would waste time on someone like me, who they say isn't even pretty, let alone sexy.

At least he's intelligent. LOL!

I wished for some magic. I wished Cinderella's fairy godmother were real. I wished someone could give me glass shoes to change my life.

Being beautiful opens many doors. Many opportunities come your way, and there are good jobs waiting for you.

But once again, reality slapped me. The reality that there's no magic, no fairy godmother, and no one will give me glass shoes.

Living in reality is tough.

Coco's POV

"Ugh! So annoying! Why did I get home late just when I have free time to look for a job?" I muttered to myself, hastily grabbing my bag hanging on the chair and rushing out of the house towards the jeepney stop. "You're so silly, Concepcion. Why do you always oversleep? There! You didn't even notice the time!"

I was close to the jeepney stop when I suddenly stopped running. Ugh. Truly irritating. With all the things I could forget to do before leaving the house, why this? Papa would surely scold me for this. He might think I'm neglecting him just because I'm single now. I hurriedly ran back to my rented apartment and opened the door. Upon entering, I went straight to my room and took Papa's picture from my study table.

"Papa, I'm sorry. I apologize for forgetting to inform you," I spoke to the picture frame where Papa was smiling when he was still alive. "I'll be out tonight to look for a job, Papa. Take care of the apartment, okay? Scare away any thieves. Bless them, Dad. Okay, I'm leaving now. I love you, Pa." I said, finishing with a gesture of placing the picture frame on my forehead as if giving respect.

As I left my house, I didn't run anymore. Why did I even run earlier? To quickly find a job. But since it's already late, I'll let it be. I'm just hoping I can find a job tonight. While waiting for the jeep to the town, I yawned. I'm really tired, but I have to endure.

I got tired earlier helping my neighbor Lola Agnes with her laundry. She's old, and I felt sorry for her because she had a lot to wash. After that, I also helped her clean their house. I moved the large sofa in their living room, so my energy was totally drained. But it's okay to get tired when you've helped someone. That's what matters, right? That you did something good for others even if it means hardship for you. That's what Papa taught me when he was still alive.

While waiting for the jeep, I glanced at the TV hanging in the waiting shed. I smiled when I saw Heron acting. He's one of the lead actors in the evening show on a popular station.

"I love you, Angeline. I've waited for you. I've searched for you. Now that I've found you, I won't let you go. I'll fight for you. If I have to fight the whole world for you, I'll do it."

I stared at the TV, captivated by Heron as the camera focused on him, delivering his lines. This guy is really something. Not just handsome, but also incredibly talented in acting. No wonder he's considered the number 1 hottest and best-selling actor in the Philippines because of his acting skills. It feels like he's not even acting; it's so natural when he delivers his lines.

I closed my eyes for a moment, imagining that Heron was saying those lines to me instead of his co-actress Amanda Smith, whose character's name is Angeline in their teleserye "Kapag Kaya Kong Ipaglaban Ka." I couldn't help but blush. Why is Heron so handsome? Why does someone like him exist in this world? It's heartbreaking because he'll never know that someone like me exists in the world he treads on.

"Oh, irritating. It's over already?" I said in annoyance as Heron's teleserye ended. The credits rolled on the screen. "But it's okay. Hehe. For sure, I'll see Heron tomorrow. Mwehehe."

I shifted my gaze back to the road, waiting for the jeep. Why is the jeep taking so long? But I quickly averted my eyes when I heard an announcement on the TV.

"Are you a beautiful girl with a model-like body, aged 18 to 20? You might be the one we're looking for to be Heron Del Valle's co-star in a commercial. Audition will be on November XX, XXXX, at 2 pm onwards. See you, pretty ladies!"

My eyes widened at that announcement. The TV in front of me seemed to sparkle and shine like diamonds. Waaaah! This is it. This is what I've been looking for. This is God's sign for me to have a job and earn enough money. And there's a bonus that I'll be working with Heron. It means there's a chance we'll become friends through our work. This is really it. It's like hitting two birds with one stone.

I felt my smile widen during these moments, but it quickly disappeared as I remembered the announcement.

"Are you a beautiful girl with a model-like body?"

No. I'm not beautiful, and I don't have a model-like body. But I am a girl. Can that work?

"Aged 18 to 20?"

Yes. Yes. I'm 19 years old.

I can do this!

Maybe.

Pwe.

Who am I kidding?

"Sigh," I sighed.

Age is the only qualification for me, but not my face and body. It's really hard to find a job when you're not blessed with physical beauty and sexiness. People who aren't blessed with physical beauty really get fewer opportunities. But wait, I'm intelligent, right? Can that work? I sighed again. They need a commercial actress to be with Heron, not a teacher or tutor.

I just boarded the jeep that stopped in front of me and forgot about my dramatic thoughts. If I have time for self-pity, then I have more time to look for a job. I've long set aside the idea of getting close to Heron in my mind. My brain just doesn't want to stop and loves to hurt itself. Because of my vivid imagination, I even imagine being close to the guy I like.

For Peter's sake or anyone else's sake, Concepcion Cordova. He's an actor. Handsome. Rich. High status. While you're just an ordinary person who looks like a sea enchantress with sky-blue eyes. Eyes are your only weapon, okay? So, stop fantasizing about getting close to him. Okay?

Okay.

While riding the jeep, I received a text from Janice. Their company is looking for 5'8" girls. She insisted on lending me money, which I declined immediately. Enough is enough. My face is already thick if I borrow money from Janice again. That woman has helped me a lot. So, for the meantime, I'll just look for a job.

You can do it, Concepcion. Your Papa raised you to be a fighter. You not only have a fighting spirit but also a face that looks like a fighter. A street fighter! Go! AJA!

"Our town is well-lit at night, with many lights on every post along the way. It's not scary to stroll even late at night, as there are still people on the streets. The people I encounter wear joyful smiles, as if they're having a good time tonight. Some are with their families, while others are out with friends. All I see on their faces is pure happiness.

If you ask about my situation?

I'm sitting in a corner because both of my feet hurt. I've been wandering around town since earlier, but I can't find a job. Restaurants looking for workers won't hire me because, well, you know. Is it my fault that I look like this? Even when I begged them, they still refused. I even offered to be a mascot, but they were too choosy. They said I look more like a mascot than what I would wear as a costume.

"Come back next year. For the Halloween party. We might need you," said the manager I spoke to earlier, laughing.

I got so annoyed that I ended up speaking in English to him.

"For a person like you who has a higher position in this establishment, I assumed that you are well-educated and have good morals. But your mouth and your guts were saying otherwise. If the world is full of people like you with a sucky attitude, I do not want to live in this world anymore," I said before storming out of their restaurant.

Their food is expensive, but the manager's attitude is terrible. If you get fired, I'll be the first to laugh at you.

Because of my frustration, I suddenly felt hungry. I remembered I hadn't eaten since six in the evening. What time is it now? Papa said it's not good to let hunger pass, so I should eat. I took my wallet from my pocket and opened it. I sighed. What can I buy with 100 pesos? Can I even afford to eat? Maybe not. I'll use it for my fare tomorrow.

"No matter what happens, don't skimp on yourself, my child. I don't want you to go hungry."

I suddenly heard Papa's advice in my mind. I covered my face.

"Sorry, Papa. Yes, I'll eat," I said to myself before spotting a stall selling food.

I just bought a hotdog sandwich and a bottle of mineral water. I have 40 pesos left. It's good for my fare tomorrow. I don't want to casually withdraw money from my savings. How much is left there? I really need to save. Fortunately, I'm not a spendthrift. Papa taught me to prioritize needs over wants. A parent's advice has never been wrong for a child.

Even though Papa raised me alone since I was a child, he never failed in nurturing me to be a good person. If Papa could come back to life, I would still choose him as my father.

I returned to my seat to start eating. I was about to open the hotdog sandwich when I looked to the side and saw an old beggar. She was filthy and looked like she hadn't bathed in days. But that's not my concern. She was rummaging through the garbage in front of her and seemed very hungry.

I immediately stood up and approached her.

"Oh, Grandma. What are you doing? Don't rummage through that. It's dirty, and you might get sick," I said to her, holding her by the arm.

She looked at me in surprise. "But... I'm hungry. I haven't eaten for days."

My heart broke at Grandma's words. It was evident she was telling the truth because she looked weak.

"Come on. I have food. Let's sit over there," I pointed to my seat. Grandma followed me. "Sit down, Grandma, and you can have this sandwich." She sat down and quickly took the sandwich I gave her.

"What about you? This is your food, isn't it?"

I waved my hand at her, "Oh, Grandma. Don't worry about me. I'm fine. I'm still full, anyway." I smiled at her. "I can manage, Grandma. You need to eat. You're old, so you need to regain your strength."

"Shall we share? Would you like that?"

"No, Grandma. I'm fine. Just drink some water from this bottle, and I'll give it to you too. Go ahead, Grandma. Eat."

"Thank you, my child," Grandma tearfully replied as she started eating the sandwich.

I just watched her eat while looking at her, and once again, my heart was touched. I really don't like seeing people go hungry. For me, a person's health is essential in this world. That's why when I was a child, I dreamed of having a large shelter for the elderly who have nowhere to go and no family. I don't want to see them wandering the cold streets.

Grandma noticed that I was looking at her, so she smiled while chewing. "This is delicious, my child."

"Go ahead and eat, Grandma."

"Don't you want any?" she asked again.

I shook my head, "No, grandma. I don't want to eat. Just seeing you enjoy your meal makes me full." I took my handkerchief from my pocket and wiped the ketchup from the corners of grandma's lips. "You're messy when you eat, grandma. Haha." We both laughed together.

After a few moments, grandma finished eating. She even burped, clearly satisfied. I smiled because, at least, she had a decent meal with the food I gave her.

"Thank you so much, my child."

"Enough with the thanks. You've thanked me several times already." I smiled. "Do you have any family? It's late, and you're still out on the streets."

She shook her head, "I have one child, but last year, she took me to a shelter with some other elderly folks. I escaped because I didn't like it there. I felt lonely. How about you? Why are you still on the streets? You're still young. Something bad might happen to you."

I chuckled, "No one would dare, With this appearance? They might get scared and run away from someone like me." I said, "I'm looking for a job, But I can't find one that will accept me. You know how people are nowadays; they judge you based on your looks and not on what you do in life." I added, "They tend to judge someone even if they don't know her. Why should a person's appearance be a basis? Judging someone's face is like judging our God, since He made us in His own image."

"You're not ugly, you know!" Grandma held my hand. "But you're not beautiful either. Your appearance is just okay."

"Wow, Thanks for the compliment. I'm touched." I laughed.

"I have something to give you, dear."

"What is it?" I winced when I saw Lola lifting her blouse and taking off her bra. Envious grandma. Even though her breasts are old, she's still flaunting them.

"Here." She handed me her pink bra. Wow, pink, really? Is she trying to be a teenager?

"Uh? What am I supposed to do with this? I have plenty of bras at home." I declined. Grandma is really something else. She just takes off her bra in the middle of the street. Good thing not many people are passing by.

"Just wear it!" She even pressed the bra to my face. I quickly moved my face away.

"No, Disgusting. That might have germs or Ebola!" I declined again. "And that bra is huge. Are you kidding me? You see that I lack in the front."

"This bra is magical!" She answered while looking seriously into my eyes. "You're a kind person, Coco. Take this bra. It will be the reason for a change in your life."

"Oh, really?" I replied, laughing. "Lola, you're good at making jokes." I stood up. "Okay, Lola. I'll go ahead, alright? It's getting late on the streets. Take care, Lola. Nice meeting you." I smiled at her, but she still looked at me seriously. I just turned around and continued walking.

After a few steps, I suddenly remembered something to ask Lola. When I faced our previous seat, she was gone. Only an empty seat and the wrapper of the sandwich Lola ate were left. But Lola seemed to have disappeared like magic.

I looked at my hands and noticed I was holding something.

"What the hell?" I exclaimed in surprise when I saw that I was holding Lola's pink bra.

How did this end up in my hands?

Coco's POV

I continued walking, pondering how that pink bra, which Lola removed from her ample chest earlier, ended up in my hands. I don't even remember picking it up when I stood up. So, how did it end up in my possession? I'm not a kleptomaniac, larcenist, heister, purloiner, or scrounger. Just one meaning, a thief or snatcher. I'm just bewildered about how it landed in my hands.

As I walked, the people I passed dwindled until I found myself completely alone. I looked around and realized I had no idea where I was standing. How did I end up here? Lost in my thoughts about Lola's bra, I didn't notice where my feet had taken me.

I kept walking, glancing around. This place was a bit dimly lit, with distant lights on the posts. It seemed deserted, like a haunt for gangsters, snatchers, drug dealers, abortionists, and lost souls. I gulped nervously, fearing what might happen if I stayed here.

It's really frustrating. If only I weren't having such bad luck tonight. No job, and now I'm lost. Sometimes, even intelligent people can act foolish, it seems. I continued walking until I encountered three men, seemingly drunk and stumbling, making a ruckus as they walked.

I didn't want to pay them any attention, fearing something bad might happen to me. Even though I'm a woman deprived of beauty, I still have precious jewels. I lowered my head, trying to walk past them, but two older men blocked my way.

"Well, well, aren't you lucky? Looks like we have a lady to celebrate with tonight," said the man in front, blocking my path. He reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. "Hey, buddies, a chick! Let's take her to an empty lot!"

My voice trembled as I replied, "No, please. I don't have time for that. I'm a busy person." I attempted to walk away, but they grabbed both of my hands, and I struggled to break free. "Let go of me! I'm not tasty! I haven't even taken a bath! My armpits and crotch still stink!!"

Despite my efforts to resist, it was futile. These older drunken men were too strong. They just laughed at my protests.

"It's alright, Ineng. It's tastier when you smell like the streets. Don't resist. No one will hear you here anyway because no one passes through this place," one of the men holding my hand said.

"Yeah, Ineng, don't be scared. We won't hurt you as long as you do what we want," another added.

Tears welled up in my eyes due to fear. It seemed like this night would be the end of me. Does Papa miss me so much from heaven that he's calling me to join him?

"Have mercy... please. I'm not that kind of woman. I'm not delicious at all," I pleaded with my head bowed.

"Aren't you that kind of woman?" one of them asked, holding the pink bra in my hand. "Why did your bra come off? Wait, this bra is so big. Is this yours?" he said, examining it. "It doesn't seem like it's yours. It's too big, but your chest looks flat."

I cried even more because of the fear and insults from these drunkards. They had plans to harm me, and now they added mockery. People nowadays are so cruel.

"I just picked this up. And I'm not a woman. I have a flat chest because I'm a man. We're not losing, brothers," I excused myself to them.

"Huh? You're a woman. Look at your long hair. Look at me!" one of them said, grabbing my face and looking up. When he saw my face, he suddenly grimaced. "Guys, this looks like a man. Or maybe he's gay because of the long hair. What do you think?" he asked his companions.

I didn't know whether to get annoyed or laugh at my current situation. Now, these three idiots mistook me for being gay just because I have a flat chest. But maybe it's better this way, and they might let me go.

"Stupid, bro. That's not gay. She's a woman who looks like a man," his companion said. "But really, this woman is so ugly. What do we do here? Do we continue or leave?"

"Let's continue, of course!" the one in front of me answered. "Let's just cover her face with a sack so we won't get annoyed by her face. But really, she's so ugly, right?"

"Excuse me, brothers," I interjected. "I'm right in front of you in case you forget. If you're going to insult me, do it properly."

They just laughed, and they pulled me again. Despite my struggles and shouts, it was still of no use. I was getting tired of screaming and fighting them. It seemed like this was where my life would end. What about my dreams? What about my dream of letting Heron know that someone like me exists?

Didn't they say unattractive women are safe from rapists? But it seems rapists nowadays don't discriminate. They go for anyone. Whatever the face looks like, these bastards just go for the gold.

I was losing hope when someone suddenly shouted from behind, causing us to stop in our tracks.

"Hey!"

It was as if the heavens opened, casting an abundance of spotlights on the guy who shouted, standing behind us. When I looked at him, he seemed to have wings and was riding a shining horse, ready to rescue me. My Knight In Shining Armor. But in reality, he had no wings and no horse. He was just on a motorcycle. But he looked so cool in his black leather jacket as he took off his helmet.

Goodness. I was literally gaping when I saw his face. Even with shades at night, he looked incredibly handsome. This guy could rival Heron's looks.

Maybe my Papa sent him to save me.

"What do you want? Don't tell me you're going to stop us. You might forget we're three and you're just one. You don't stand a chance, kid!" one of the drunkards holding me replied.

"Oh, gentlemen. I won't stop you from your party," he seriously replied as he walked towards us. "I just want to ask for directions to Herrera St. I'm lost." Then he smiled.

I wanted to praise his smile, but I lost my appetite. Damn this guy. I thought he was going to defend me, but apparently not. He just wants to ask for directions.

"Are you serious? You really won't help me? Can your conscience handle something bad happening to me?" I angrily asked him.

He looked at me, smiled again, and said, "Yes." He nodded, "I don't know you, and we're not friends. Besides, I don't want any trouble." He turned his gaze to the drunks, "So, manong, how do I get there?"

"That's fine if that's the case, young one," one replied. "Just follow that road straight, then turn. When you turn, there's a white house. That's Herrera St."

"Thanks, Manong! Good luck with your party! Enjoy!" he said and turned away.

"Hey! Do you really have no intention of helping me?" I said, feeling frustrated with this guy. "If something bad happens to me, I'll haunt you! Ugh!"

He laughed and continued walking towards his motorcycle.

"Come on! He won't help you! Let's continue the party!" they pulled me along again, and I felt like crying. There was really no hope. Someone saw me, but it was of no use. I hope he bumps into something, darn it.

"Manongs, I forgot something!" I heard the handsome but annoying guy speak again. We stopped, and I looked at him.

My eyes widened when I saw what this annoying guy was holding. A shotgun! It looked like it came from his motorcycle. He smiled while looking at us.

"What... What did you forget, kid?" the drunks nervously asked. I could feel their bodies trembling. "And why do you have a shotgun? Lower that, kid. You might accidentally fire it!"

He just smiled, "I'll really shoot it repeatedly into your bodies if you don't let her go. Now, leave her alone!"

In less than a second, the three drunks released me and ran away. They disappeared so quickly. I just sat on the street because my knees suddenly went weak. I thought it was the end of my virgin life and my life itself.

"Are you okay?" I heard him speak and laugh. The shotgun was on his shoulder.

"Probably not!" I retorted, annoyed. "You try being in that position."

"I'm often in that position. Women often take advantage of me. But I'm not afraid." He chuckled in response.

"But thanks anyway. I thought you wouldn't help me!" I said and stood up.

"Thanks?" he replied confused, shaking his head. "I don't accept just thanks."

"Well, what do you want? I don't have money. You look rich, so it's definitely not what you need." I replied and put the pink bra from grandma's bag that caused all the trouble.

"Your body," he casually said.

"WHAT?" I exclaimed. "WHAT?"

"Your body. Pay me with your body," he said while grinning. He started walking towards me. "Come on. Let's go to that vacant lot!"

"NO! YOU JERK! YOU'RE ALSO A PERVERT!" I shouted at him and ran away.

I still heard him shouting and calling me, but I didn't stop. I might end up losing my precious jewels. Even though he's handsome and looks like an action star, I have no intention of giving in. My femininity is important to me, so it's a NO!

I woke up feeling someone kissing me. As I opened my eyes, my manager and guardian, Lolita Saragoza, was inches away, frowning as if I'd done something to annoy her this morning.

"Why aren't you responding to my kisses, Heron?" she irritably asked. "Aren't you happy to see my face this morning?"

"No, it's not like that, Lolita. I was just surprised to be kissed while sleeping. I didn't even know you were here in my condo," I calmly replied, removing the blanket covering me. I only slept in boxers, but I didn't care if she saw me like this. She'd seen my naked body several times before.

Her face brightened. "I thought you were rejecting me for what I do to you."

I shook my head. "Of course not. I owe you a lot, Lolita. You can do whatever you want with me. I owe everything to you."

"Good. That's why you're my favorite among all the artists I handle," she grinned and kissed me again, this time more deeply. I just let her do what she wanted, and she even caressed my abs as if eagerly longing for it.

I closed my eyes and let Lolita do her thing this morning. Don't get me wrong. Lolita and I don't have a romantic relationship. She's not my girlfriend or anything. She's a 36-year-old woman, my benefactor who found me on the streets, starving and wandering. She took me in, dressed me up, and gave me a luxurious life. She's like a mother to me, except for the fact that there's a sexual relationship involved. I can't refuse her desires because I owe her so much.

I'd prefer this set-up than going back to the streets to starve. But that won't happen again since I'm wealthy now, the number 1 best-selling actor in the Philippines. Also, I won't let Lolita leave because she treats me like a son. She gives me everything, and in return, I give her my body.

"That's it for now," Lolita stood up and fixed herself. She looks as young as me. She's a classy and sophisticated woman due to her immense wealth. She inherited her riches from her late husband before she found me on the streets. "Get ready, Heron. You'll be late for school."

I stood up and sat on the edge of the bed. "What's my schedule for today?"

"You have a taping this afternoon after school. I'll meet you at the studio, okay?" she said, then kissed me again. "Alright, I'll go ahead. I have a meeting for a perfume brand that wants you for endorsement." She left my room.

I stared at myself in the large mirror in front of me, carefully examining my appearance. I've come a long way from being a wandering street kid. I owe everything to Lolita. I don't complain if she wants my body; we only do things in the privacy of our room. In public, I'm an actor, and she's my manager.

I got up and went to the bathroom to shower. I need to go to school; in the past, I used to hope she'd show up. I've been waiting for years for us to meet again. But my hopes have always been in vain. I won't lose hope because I know that one day, I'll see her again.

I turned on the shower, letting the cold water cascade over my entire body. Memories flooded back, one of the beautiful moments in my life.

"I'll study at Herrera International School when I grow up. Ron, where will you go?"

"I don't know. I won't study. I don't have a family to send me to school," I replied. "I'm a beggar, right? Roaming the streets."

I saw her saddened face, "You should study. I want you to study at Herrera International School too, okay? I want us to meet there." She smiled at me. "If you don't have money, become an actor. You're handsome, Ron. I'm sure many girls will love you. But promise me, don't forget me, okay?"

"Of course," I happily replied. "You're my first friend. We'll always meet here, right?"

"Promise. We'll always meet here," she said with a smile.

That was our promise to each other, my first-ever friend. I used to be a street kid, but she accepted me without disgust and judgment, even though my life was in shambles. We always met at the plaza every night, and she gave me food. I used to be a child thief to survive, but because of her and her teachings, I stopped.

But one night, we didn't meet again. She never showed up at our meeting place. I waited for days, but she never came. That's why I'm hopeful now that we'll meet at the school I attend. I'm not sure if she's also studying at HIS or not. I can't check the records because I don't know her name.

One day, we'll meet again. I promise that we'll meet again.