June 21, 2010 – 3:00 PM
Thomas stepped out of the nearest BDO branch with an envelope thick with cash pressed firmly in his pocket. The late afternoon sun was blinding, but it didn't bother him.
The heat. The noise of jeepneys. The shouting vendors.
Everything felt different now. Brighter. Louder. More alive.
Because this time, he wasn't walking the streets broke and beaten.
He had money in his pocket. Real money. Withdrawn straight from his linked AdMob bank deposit.
₱143,000 in total.
He left ₱10,000 in the account to avoid balance penalties and pulled the rest. The teller had blinked at him, surprised at the transaction.
Now he walked briskly through the sidewalk like a man on a mission.
First stop? Mang Erning.
When he arrived back at the building, the old man was smoking by the gate, sitting on his little plastic stool.
"James?" he said with a brow raised. "You actually came back."
Thomas pulled out a folded wad of bills and handed it to him without a word.
Mang Erning stared. "This is…"
"Rent's owned, and rent for this month, and the next two," Thomas said.. "Plus the unpaid water bill and electric bill. You'll find it all in there."
The old man blinked again, counting out the bills. His cigarette dangled uselessly in his mouth.
"Well… damn." He scratched his head, visibly surprised. "You finally made something, huh?"
Thomas smiled faintly. "Something like that."
Mang Erning gave him a look of reluctant respect. "Alright. Then I'll stop bothering you." He stood, pocketed the money, and gave a rare nod. "I won't evict you anymore. You're good. See, if you pay in time there will be no trouble. I don't know why you are making it hard for yourself."
That settled, Thomas climbed back up the stairs and shut the door behind him with a quiet sigh.
Rent. Done.
Bills. Covered.
Now for the motorcycle. It was parked in the parking slot of the apartment and he remembered that if he couldn't pay in due date, the motorcycle would be repossessed by the dealership. He couldn't let it happen.
He walked toward his motorcycle, which was a second-hand Yamaha Sniper 135—old, battered, and clearly neglected, but still functional. The paint had faded, the muffler was rusting, and the tires looked like they hadn't seen a decent air refill in months.
Still, it was his. Or rather, James's. But now that he had assumed the role of James Pascual, it was something he was going to keep. No way he was letting them take it back now.
He pulled the keys from his pocket and inserted them into the ignition, half expecting the engine to sputter and die. To his surprise, after a few ugly coughs, the motor came alive with a growl.
Thomas grinned. "You still got fight in you."
He revved the engine once, then zipped down the narrow street to the dealership just ten blocs away from his apartment. The roads were choked with afternoon traffic, and jeepneys weaved dangerously close, but he maneuvered between them like a veteran. James's body still had all the instincts.
Ten minutes later, he parked outside Rider's Republic, a small, slightly shady motorcycle dealership. The kind that handed out installment plans with minimal paperwork—and then repossessed with no warning.
He stepped inside the shop, where a man in a sleeveless polo was leaned back behind the counter, drinking a bottle of Cobra energy drink.
"Good afternoon sir!" the man said automatically. "You here to inquire?"
"No," Thomas said, placing the envelope on the counter. "I'm here to pay off the balance of the Sniper 135. Fully."
The man blinked. Then sat up straighter. "Wait—James Pascual?"
"That's right."
The man scratched his head. "Uh… bro, we already had a repo team scheduled for tomorrow."
"Cancel it."
Thomas opened the envelope and began counting out the bills. The man's eyes widened as the stack grew.
"₱18,500 for the remaining balance," Thomas said. "₱1,500 for the late fees. That makes it twenty thousand total."
The clerk nodded quickly, now visibly more respectful. "Right, right, that's correct."
Thomas finished counting. "And here's an extra thousand… for closing this with zero paperwork delay."
The clerk grinned. "No need for the bribe, sir, but thank you!"
Fifteen minutes later, Thomas walked out with an official receipt, a paid-in-full document, and the proud knowledge that the bike was truly his now.
As he slid the helmet back on, he couldn't help but mutter to himself: "And that's debt clearance number three."
Back in his apartment, the sun was starting to set outside. The orange glow bled through the window, washing over the floor. For the first time since he woke up in this world, Thomas sat down at his desk free of debt. No eviction notice. No repossession threats. No final disconnection warnings.
All of it—wiped clean.
And all thanks to a stupid little bird game that flapped between pipes.
And after three days of sleepless grinding, stress, and desperation, there was one thing he knew he deserved now:
A damn treat.
After paying off rent, bills, and clearing the motorcycle debt, he still had around ₱100,000 left. More than enough for a celebration.
His fingers tapped the edge of the desk, thoughtful.
"I've been eating instant noodles and canned sardines for two days. Wore the same faded shirt three days in a row. My phone's screen has a spiderweb crack and the battery dies in two hours."
He looked down at himself—ripped jeans, a shirt with holes under the armpits, and old sandals that had clearly walked one too many kilometers.
"Yeah, I think it's time for some self-care."
His stomach growled as if in agreement.
By 5:00 PM, he was cruising down EDSA aboard his Sniper 135, freshly topped off with gas from the nearest station. The Manila traffic was thick as always, but he didn't care. He had money in his pocket, a goal in mind, and the freedom to move.
Destination?
SM North EDSA.
The biggest mall in Quezon City—sprawling, modern, and, more importantly, filled with everything he needed: clothes, gadgets, food, and a dose of civilization.
He parked in the basement motorcycle parking and strolled up into the mall, breathing in the sweet, cold air-conditioned breeze like it was the freshest thing on Earth. The clean tile floors. The LED-lit store signs. The sound of children laughing, mall music humming above. It all felt unreal.
"I used to take places like this for granted," Thomas murmured. "Now it feels like stepping into a palace."
First stop: Bench.
He walked in and bought two pairs of jeans, three graphic tees, a plain black hoodie, and boxers. Then went over to Penshoppe to grab new sneakers and a proper wallet to replace James's ripped Velcro one.
₱7,400 damage. Worth it.
Next stop: Power Mac Center.
He skipped the iPhone—too pricey—and went straight for a mid-range Android. A Samsung Galaxy Ace. Compact, reliable, and perfect for what he needed: browsing, managing developer uploads, and taking calls. He also bought a new prepaid SIM and a 64GB microSD card.
₱13,500 gone. Still worth it.
He added a Bluetooth earphone set for ₱1,200 on a whim.
Then came the food.
After everything he'd been through, the first proper meal in his new life had to be special. He passed by Jollibee. Tempting, but no. Mang Inasal? Not today.
Then he saw it—Buffet 101.
₱899 for unlimited seafood, roast beef, sushi, grilled everything, and desserts stacked like art displays. For a guy who lived on Lucky Me! and canned tuna, it was like finding Atlantis.
He walked in, paid for one solo diner, and devoured everything.
He ate like a starving beast: four plates of sushi, three rounds of grilled pork belly, two bowls of miso soup, and a small mountain of mashed potatoes and tempura. Then topped it all with two scoops of ube ice cream, a slice of mango cake, and a cup of brewed coffee.
He leaned back in the booth, holding his stomach.
After dinner, he wandered through Cyberzone, browsing stores for inspiration. He checked gaming laptops—not that he could afford the high-end ones just yet—but he made a mental note. Soon.
A staffer at one store tried to upsell him on a mechanical keyboard. He passed for now. Still needed to be smart with the cash.
As he left the mall at around 9:00 PM, his backpack was heavier with new clothes and gadgets, but his heart was light.
It wasn't just about material things.
It was about proof.
Proof that he'd survived. That he'd clawed his way out of a pit—and now, he was rising.
By 10:00 PM, he returned to his apartment, kicked off his shoes, and flopped onto the mattress with a satisfied groan.
He unpacked his things, laid out his new clothes, and turned on his brand-new phone.
Then he did something that felt… almost spiritual.
He took James's old, cracked, laggy phone—and dropped it in the trash.
Good riddance.
Sitting at the desk again, he refreshed the AdMob dashboard.
325,449 downloads.
₱250,991.20 total revenue.
Still growing.
He smiled.