For once, it wasn't because of the pressure to rehearse. Not because i had to catch a flight or prep for a press con or get glammed up for some morning show where they'd ask me the same questions in different formats.
Today… I woke up for something else.
No, not something.
Someone.
My feet were cold against the tiles, but my chest felt warm in a way that annoyed me. I didn't like it. I didn't like that i was anticipating something. I've lived too long in schedules and scripts to believe in anything spontaneous.
But there i was, opening the sliding door to my small terrace, lighting a cigarette i didn't even crave yet.
Waiting.
I hated that word. Waiting. It felt like vulnerability dressed as patience.
Pero i stayed there. Blowing smoke into the early air, scanning the hallway below in case he showed up.
Ken.
New neighbor Ken, who didn't ask for a selfie, who didn't call me by my stage name.
Who looked at me like i was just… some girl who chain-smokes before breakfast.
I took another drag, eyeing his door.
Baka late na siya lumabas ngayon.
Maybe wala siyang pasok?
Just as that thought crossed my mind, the doorknob turned. My pulse jumped stupidly. I looked away, casually as if i hadn't been standing there for twenty straight minutes pretending to enjoy the breeze.
Ken stepped out in a gray shirt and plaid pajama pants. His hair was slightly damp, like he just washed his face. Mukhang wala nga siyang pasok.
"Morning," he said.
I don't know what got into me, but i opened my mouth before my brain could catch up.
"Kumain ka na?"
Ken blinked. "Huh?"
"Breakfast," I clarified, tapping the ash off my cigarette. "Gusto mo?"
He stared at me like i'd just asked him to elope. I saw his brows knit together, as if trying to decode my motive. I didn't blame him. I wouldn't trust me either.
"I mean…" I shrugged, exhaling smoke. "If you're not busy."
He tilted his head slightly. "Wala naman akong pasok today. Actually… work from home na ako starting this week."
I smirked a little, for reasons i wasn't about to explain. Good. That meant i'd see more of him. Or at least hear his door open and close more often.
Ken scratched the back of his neck. "Okay. Sige. Pero dito na lang sa unit ko. Wala pa 'kong gas sa stove ko."
I nodded once and stubbed out the cigarette. "Fine."
His apartment was the exact opposite of mine. Orderly. Simple. May pagka-minimalist. Walang poster, walang frame, walang clutter.
Sa totoo lang, it felt a little… peaceful.
He motioned for me to sit habang inihahanda niya yung mga itlog, sinangag, at spam.
Classic. Familiar.
I leaned back on the chair, arms crossed, watching him move around like he's done this a hundred times. Like this wasn't weird at all.
He was humming a little.
Some tune i didn't know.
"Anong trabaho mo?" I asked finally.
"Software engineer," he said. "Pero mostly backend work. More on systems, less on UI. Gets?"
"No."
He chuckled. "Basta ako 'yung taong inaasahan mong ayusin 'yung bagal ng system ng banko o ng website kapag nagka-crash."
I nodded slowly. "Okay. So… pang-smart people."
He looked back at me and smiled. "Hindi naman. Sanayan lang."
I didn't smile back. I don't give smiles for free. But I did tilt my head slightly. "So… you don't recognize me?"
He paused while cracking the second egg. "Should i?"
"No."
"Then no. I don't."
A pause.
Something in me unclenched.
He wasn't pretending. He really didn't know. Or maybe he really didn't care. Either way, it felt like a tiny sliver of freedom wedged into a life that had been defined by camera flashes and online hate threads.
He served the food without ceremony. Walang plating. Walang garnish. But it was hot, and it smelled like comfort.
"You don't talk much, do you?" he asked as we sat down.
"I talk," I said, stabbing my spam. "Just not to people i don't trust."
"Good thing i'm trustworthy," he grinned.
I gave him a blank stare. "Sabi mo lang yan."
After breakfast, he started working. Naka-set up siya sa maliit na table facing the window, two monitors open, may mga code na mukhang alien language sa screen.
I stayed for a while. Tahimik lang.
He didn't ask me to leave.
I didn't offer to.
Then i got bored and stepped out to the terrace again. Lit another stick. The smoke tasted less like rebellion today and more like routine.
Eventually, I went back to my own apartment.
And the weight returned.
The familiar heaviness of who i used to be settled on my chest again, like a ghost i couldn't evict.
There were unopened voice messages from my manager. Missed calls from Mom. A group chat flooded with concern and fake sympathy.
Cassandra, just tell us where you are.
Can we send someone to help you?
The company can't cover for you forever. We need to talk.
I turned my phone off.
No one gets it.
The pressure to always be okay.
The way they expect you to be grateful even when you're breaking.
The way people think fame is some kind of shield from pain.
I lay on the couch and stared at the ceiling.
Silence. Blessed, infuriating silence.
Until—
KNOCK KNOCK
I sat up.
Two knocks. No doorbell. Just enough to announce presence without demanding it.
I opened the door.
It was Ken. Holding a plastic container. Food.
"Hindi ko alam kung kumain ka na," he said. "So… yeah."
I stepped aside. "Pasok."
He did. His eyes scanned my unit, a mess compared to his. There were clothes on a chair, empty cans on the counter, half-unpacked boxes I refused to touch.
"Tulungan na rin kitang ayusin 'to minsan," he said casually, placing the food on the table.
"I didn't ask."
"Alam ko. Pero nakakainis tignan," he smirked.
I rolled my eyes. "Ikaw na."
He started tidying anyway. Picking up trash. Folding the blanket on the couch. Fixing the shoes by the door.
I didn't stop him.
Instead, I watched. Again. Like earlier.
Maybe it was the quiet competence. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't treat me like k was fragile. He didn't tiptoe. He didn't flatter.
He just… existed.
And for the first time in a long time, I didn't mind being around someone.
That night, we ate together again.
The food was decent. Nothing fancy. But it tasted warmer somehow. Like someone remembered you.
After we ate, Ken looked at me for a moment and said, "You're not from here, are you?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Obvious ba?"
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You seem… lost."
That word. Lost.
I should've taken offense. But i didn't.
Instead, I met his gaze.
"Maybe i am."
He nodded slowly, not pushing for more.
Then he stood up. "I should go."
I didn't stop him.
As he opened the door, I said quietly, "Thanks. For the food."
He turned around, gave a small, genuine nod. "Anytime."
Then he was gone.
I sat there in the messy quiet of my apartment.
And for a split second, I wondered—
Did i just make a friend?
Or was this the start of something else?