boys dont cry

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Chapter 4

DESTINATION:pvp

2:00am, Monday.

Philippines--->Vancouver--->Paris!

— missy —

My mother’s crying so hard, the whole airport may be flooded within two seconds. I can’t believe she’s bawl like a baby, in front of everyone else. I was the princess of the family, I know. But, I never thought Mom would be so vigilant about me, I’m eighteen in two weeks. This isn’t appropriate, right?

I can’t blame her though.

It’s the first time I’ll be going out of the country…and without the family. But, I know, whatever happens, Gio will look out for me. Like Peter Parker to her MJ. Clark to his lois lane Romeo to his Juliet. Aguilus sa kanyang Alwina… huh?take about kaCHEAPAN. (HAHA!)

“Can you just change your mind?” My mother hugged me wiping her tears using the old hankie I gave her. My mother’s silly. How can I back out now? I’m wearing a Prada shoes, A Gucci skirt, and a Nafnaf blouse. How can I just turn when they’re so prepared?

“Ma, you know that can’t happen.”

“You come back, whole, okay? Walang kulang…walang sobra!” What do you mean sobra? Like, I would go home with three arms? Two nose? Or…a baby? Of course! That can’t happen! No way! I’m not that seductive type.

“No. promise. Take care.”

— gio —

I looked at the girl I’ll be with for a week. She’s so close to her family. They’re so intact. I can’t believe this is happening. I just took my chances and here we are… going in the most romantic place ever… too bad, I’m not with Chelsea. I think, I’m going to enjoy if I’ll let myself enjoy.

I don’t know what this girl is up to. But, her simplicity just assures me that she’s a good girl, with no hidden intentions… and no craving for Gio Gantiqui.

“Gio, call your girlfriend now.” My mother touched my hand while noticing I’m staring at her. I’ve got to tell them she’s my girl or else, they won’t let her come with us. She’ so lucky, just so you know, she’s the first and only girl I’ve ever introduce to my family as my girl friend.

I went to her place and get her baggage. Ow. It was bit, heavy!help!anyone!

“Hi po. I’m sorry to intercept but, we need to go.” Her father smiled at me and hugged his daughter. Her mother is crying like a river. I think it’s sweet.

I took her hand along with the baggage; went in the airport, of course with my relatives and friends who’ll be coming with us.

“Nervous?” I asked her. She swished my hand.

“Scared.”

4:00am, Tuesday.

40hours flight. PARIS

— missy —

It was like a dream come true. After 40hours of flight, almost three days na ren, we’re here at last. My head is aching, jet log, maybe.... We’re here in Hotel du Ministère in the 8th district of Paris. I don’t know how to pronounce that. Anyway, it’s near The Champs-Elysées, place de la Concorde, the Madeleine church and the rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré, tourist spots that are fabulous!

I’m outside our room. Yeah, Gio and I, in the same room…but different beds!HAHA. I can’t imagine, I’m here already and though my head is cracking, I’m here, sitting by the porch and looking though beautiful scenery. I was like been put into a post card. It’s so attractive, it’s making me stung.

— gio —

I opened my eyes and saw no one from the other bed. Where is she? I asked my self, to check her, I looked over the bath room and the comfort rooms, but she’s wasn’t there. I went around the hotel room, and found nothing.

I was bit nervous, she can’t get out, she’s not familiar with Paris… What will happen to her? She can’t even speak French. I turned and saw a shadow outside—at the porch.

“Paris is gorgeous, right?” I entered. She was little surprised.

— missy —

I thought who it was, but then right here and there, he entered. I wonder why he got up. He’s also tired like me. I better tell him to go to sleep now.

— gio —

“yeah. Just soaking it up? Go ahead, sleep now.” I’m sleepy, but I didn’t move. I want to talk to her. I know she’s not alright.

— missy —

He didn’t move. So, I thought of something to share, but no words came out my mouth. Think, Missy. Think.

— gio —

“How does it feel to have everything?” She asked me looking through Paris. I sat down on the bench at the other end. That was a weird question, it’s getting me a hard time thinking what to answer.

— missy —

It took him two minutes, and He’s still not answering. Nakakbingi ang katahimikan. Did I discourage him? Dang!I’m so stupid. And this is weird. We’re not close so, I feel paroxysm rather than joy and so on…

“To have everything…” He said, I looked at him. “It makes me more not contented. I want everything. I get everything. And I’m happy.”

Happy? Not even joy? I wonder. I looked at the bright city lights. My life is just like that lights. Beginning to shine, to make a difference. To be in a fantasy land… of no where to be found.

“So, how does it feel not to have everything?” He put back the question.

“Over-joy.”

Over-joy? How come? When you don’t have everything, it sounds boring. How come it would be, joy? I wonder. Is she a Gio Gantiqui in her own world?


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