For everyone in my life that made this story possible:

“I thank my God upon every remembrance of you.”

-- Philippians 1:3 (KJV)

Introduction

She took a deep breath, and raised the telephone receiver. She pressed on the buttons, and took another deep breath. She waited until she heard a few rings, and the sound of someone picking up the other line.

A baritone voice answered. “Yes?”

“Hi, Sir Dennis? This is Kai…”

“About your book again?”

“Actually, yes, sir…I was wondering IF the publisher would publish the book draft I sent? And when?”

Sir Dennis had been nice enough to offer her a chance to write her very first published book. Just a short one, nothing fancy, nothing profound. She did not ask for a lot, not even in money. She just wanted the chance to be published, to find out what it felt like. She knew she could write. She just didn’t have a solid idea how good she could write, and she wanted to find out. It took her a few months (because she wrote and scribbled during her free time – and free time was somewhat hard to find), but she finally finished a draft for a small book, and passed it to Sir Dennis. Then she waited for a response from the publisher.

And she waited, and she waited.

The first few times Sir Dennis said he was busy, or the publishing company was busy, so the book was not getting printed. But eventually she noticed that the wait was getting longer, and longer. She frankly asked him. The problem was with the book, right?

“It’s like this, Kai. The publisher thinks your story is too serious, too sad. Remember that we’re trying to make a name in romantic comedies. Besides the ghost stories, of course…”

“Yes, of course…”

“Your story is fine, you understand. But you have to change it a bit, make it lighter, and funnier.”

The proud writer in Kai was not registering what Sir Dennis was saying. “Exactly where do they want it changed, sir?”

“The attempted suicide of your male character, for example.”

“But, sir…”

“Young readers. They won’t like it. Neither would the older readers. You do understand, right?”

She sighed. The rest of her slumped inside. The attempted suicide was a crucial point in her little story. It was the point where the girl would make a real impact on the guy, and something of a relationship just may start. But, yeah, she did see the point he was raising. Even she was a little creeped out by her own writing when she got to that point. All the same, it was a crucial point! “But, Sir, if I change it, it will ruin the effect I want to have on the story!” she wailed. “It just won’t be same!”

“The fact remains, Kai, the story is too serious. The publisher wants a nice, light, warmhearted romantic comedy. Not this stuff about a suicide.”

She scratched her head. “So the story has no chance of getting published?”

“Just remove the suicide. Make the story lighter.”

“Anything else?”

“That’s pretty much it. Good luck.”

“Yes, sir…” She put down the phone.

But changing the story would be impossible now. The story won’t be same. The story would have to be revamped … or the story would have to be ditched, altogether. Then she would have to start from scratch. But if she did start from scratch, what should the new story be?

Unless you counted her weird experiences in the arena of romance, she had no solid experience in love. She did not exactly read romance novels, you see, despite the fact that she had achieved a reputation for making romance stories. Detective stories and classic literature were her favorite books. Romance was present in them, but they did not exactly ooze with it, and she liked it that way. She didn’t even read the kind of book she was being asked to make – which, she now realized, was a BIG mistake.

She asked one of her friends, in desperation.

“Make a story out of your life experience, Kai,” the friend suggested.

“You’re kidding.” She paled.

“Nope. It just might make interesting reading.”

Kai wailed again. “But…but…that’s HIGHLY classified information! I promised!”

“Then, make it fictional. Authors have done it before.”

“But, but, people would guess!”

“Not if you change things here and there, until no one could recognize them.”

“But, HE would! I can’t let my relationship with HIM – whatever relationship that was – out to the public!”

“So, show the manuscript to HIM before you send it to Sir Dennis, just in case he wants things changed, or he doesn’t want it to go to print at all.”

“But if he doesn’t let me print it, I don’t have a book! Because I don’t have any more stories left in me!”

“Kai Santos, out of story ideas? Since when?”

“Since NOW!”

The friend patted her on the back. “You’re just panicking. Go home, think about it. Then face your computer, and type.”

“But, THAT story? Seriously?”

“Sure. Besides,” the friend giggled, “who would believe that it really happened?”

Her friend DID have a point, Kai thought, as she sat at her desk, looking down at the deserted house next door. It was a story that even she did not believe until it had been too late. It was the stuff of legends, novels – or, at least, chick lits.

She switched the computer on, still thinking about what her friend said, as the computer went through the motions of starting up. She took a deep breath. “I hope he doesn’t get mad at me.”

She opened the word processor.

She stared at the blank white document for more than five minutes, wondering where, and how, she should start. She had decided to tell the story. Now, she wanted to know how. And it all had to start at the first few words.

She finally decided on just one line. She typed them quickly.

“This is dedicated to Bob.”

Chapter 1

There are fans. Fans are people that an individual needs in the hundreds and thousands to be considered famous. They are the people who bought the books, watched the shows, listened to the songs. They were interested enough in the person, so they were willing to shell out money for a few products related to the person. Those purchases kept the famous person working, and everyone is happy.

And then, there are fangirls. Fangirls are females whose lives revolved around a certain individual, existing in real life or created for a story, who spent their waking hours thinking over and over about the object of their obsession, and sharing that obsession with others whenever they can. Fangirls are a mysterious group of individuals, a group with many subgroups, and those subgroups even have subspecialties.

Fangirls came in many shapes and sizes, as well as manifestations. Some of them are loud and proud, telling the world and showing the world. They organized the conventions and the organizations. Most of them, however, preferred to remain silent and mysterious, showing no external manifestation of their infatuation, besides the occasional large pin on a bag, or the pretty wallpaper on their office computer, or the playlist on their mp3 player full of their favorite artist’s songs. They will not talk to others about their infatuation, unless another member of their cult manages to pass by, notice the little signs of the infatuation, and initiate a conversation.

A shy girl would tap another shy girl on the shoulder, the girl with an almost inconspicuous bag pin on a shoulder strap. “Oh, so you like Storm, too!” a fellow fangirl would say.

The girl with the bag pin would smile slightly, but her eyes would light up. “Sure, I do!” However, she would keep her enthusiasm at bay, just in case she would be disappointed by the other girl’s lack of in-depth knowledge, if it were not at par with her own, which would prove that the girl was just a fan but not a fangirl.

A little assessment of the level of fangirl-ness would sometimes follow that introduction, if neither of them were busy.

“My favorite song is ‘To Let You Go’…incredible vocals on that one,” the shy girl shyly offered, but with hopeful, bright eyes.

The girl with the bag pin would smile in approval. The song was one of the lesser known songs made by that artist. Only another hardcore fangirl of Storm would know about that song. She was at her level of expertise. The girl passed her unofficial test. She would continue the conversation, “The best part of that song is the acapella section at the end, don’t you think?”

The other girl would nod and smile widely, and a cheerful, if geeky, conversation about the aspects of Storm’s work would commence. The conversation would end with the two girls exchanging cellular phone numbers, and a promise to meet up again.

It was those moments, not as rare as others might think, that made a fangirl’s life worthwhile.

Kai Santos was a fangirl, of a certain mysterious-handsome-incredible-sweet-genius-guitar playing-great singing famous artist, subtype. She specialized in an artist named Storm.

At least, that was the name he gave the media and the general public. Even if his face was well known, his background was not. His management people were good, REALLY good. No paparazzi had managed to find him in the wrong place at the wrong time. No gossip snoops had managed to find out where he went to elementary school or high school – which made many of them suspect that he had grown up abroad and was just imported into the country. None of them had even managed to find out what his real name was! All his close friends had been sworn to secrecy, and none of them had broken his trust, yet, even with various bribes from the magazines and television stations.

This just made his allure to the fangirls stronger. Who was the tall, not-exactly-dark, incredibly handsome singer, REALLY? Was he really as nice as he was in all the television interviews? Was it all just an act?

Storm was not the product of those talent-search contests, where it was more than possible to reveal more than he wanted. He was the well-packaged product of a record company. He was appropriately named, because he appeared in a wave of media blitz and left the public blown away. But well-packaged though he was, he more than delivered the goods. He sang with a deep, romantic tenor that glided across the melodies. He played the acoustic guitar and made the hardest heart melt, at a level higher than expected of most singers. Best of all, he had a great body to model off and pose for magazine posters. The same posters that the fangirls bought by the bulk and pinned to their walls or scanned for computer wallpapers.

Kai was one of those who were more than smitten by him. She heard one of his songs on the radio. Then she bought his first album. Then she bought all the magazines about him. She watched all his TV appearances. She even taped some of those TV appearances. She posted his pictures on her bedroom wall. And, of course, her computer was full of his pictures and his music as well.

“But Storm is skinny and light. Not like, say, Adrian Lariosa. Now THAT’s a beefcake,” her friends said.

“Tall, dark, handsome. Broad shoulders. Confident stare. Deep voice…” one of her other friends enumerated. “Adrian is my dream boy. I don’t care if he has a girlfriend right now. He’s mine.”

“And he’s a great actor, too…the one they say will replace FPJ as the Action King,” The first one added. “THAT’s the kind of guy you should be after. Not this thin guy who can just sing.”

“But you’ve heard him sing! And Storm has a great body, even if he’s rather smaller than the others around.”

“He’s just gay.”

“No, he’s NOT!” she pouted.

Kai dismissed all accusations such as those as accusations done by people who did not understand the artist. They did not hear “To Let You Go,” one of the songs in his album but one that did not air on the radio. It was a fangirl favorite, because it was the song where his prowess with a guitar and his wide vocal range were best heard.

But Kai was one of the fangirls on a budget. She was dreadfully happy she managed to buy the CD of his first album at the record store. Others had bought the limited-edition DVD with special features and a booklet full of his pictures. Many of the richer fangirls went to each and every known gig that he had in Metro Manila. But that was too expensive for someone on an ordinary student’s allowance, and she was grateful for what she did have: even just a little piece of Storm. She just depended on the kindness of some of the rich fangirls who scanned their hauls and made them available online. These she saved and saved and saved onto their only computer at home. Sometimes she spent minutes just going over a subfolder inside My Pictures, dedicated to all pictures of Storm. There was more than 2 gigabytes worth of pictures already. That included the wallpapers some of the more Photoshop-savvy fangirls had made for other fangirls to enjoy.

One of her over-the-top dreams was to meet Storm, in person. Even if only to shake hands with him, say hi, and tell him that he was a really great artist. But she knew that it would never happen, so she kept herself happy with his pictures on her PC. She was not even in that sub-category of fangirls that wanted to marry Storm – and there were a lot of fangirls who did want to marry him. If meeting the man was impossible, marrying him was not even worth thinking about.

Just to meet him, that was all she wanted. Just to say hi.

Chapter 2

When her head was not dreaming about Storm or any of his songs, it was supposed to be busy thinking about school work. Assignments and projects. But even then, her earphones were stuck to a music player filled with his music, which made the time pass more quickly while she typed and studied. And in her free time, she typed, and typed and typed.

Unlike other fans, she was clueless at web designing and hopeless at using Photoshop. She could not make websites, and she could not make wallpapers. Making sound clips was out of the question for her. But she did know that she could write stories, that she could imagine events happening and tell others about what she imagined. She helped other people imagine what it would be like if their favorite idol did this or that.

Others of her kind linked him to other stars – females AND males. She did not like that idea, though. She instead wrote romance fiction. Mostly for her personal escape from the world of tests and teachers, sometimes to share with friends and school newspapers. But always it was about him. The names changed for each and every story, but the description of the leading man was always the same: tall, sleek, smooth-faced, with well-defined muscles in a thin frame. In a word, Storm. Her Storm-adoring online friends knew that, switched, say, Andrew’s name to Storm’s, and had a great time imagining with Kai what it would be like if Storm went on a Paris holiday and met a pretty girl, namely, hopefully, them.

When lectures were boring and teachers were dragging on and on, she shut out the world and began to dream up her next story. She would see him walking up to a girl – maybe her, maybe a friend of hers – and call her pretty. Would she like to have lunch with him? Maybe a movie? And the girl would – maybe she would agree today, but maybe she would give the Storm clone a hard time. But they would, sooner or later, end up happily ever after. The way she wanted to hopefully end up with him. Impossible in reality, more than possible in the world of fiction.

By making many of those stories, thinly-disguised Storm fan-fiction, she made something of a reputation online among the hardcore Storm fans. It was something of a game among them to see how Kai described their favorite idol now, and what adventures she would take him in her dreams. Every Storm fangirl should have heard of The Kaiser, some time or other, and should have read her work. It was a weird notoriety, and she liked it. She would never get it offline.

As The Kaiser, she was on a roll. Several one-shot stories were uploaded, only days from each other. Even the Kaiser was surprised to know that the fanbase considered the one-shots her best material yet, and that she was improving with each new story. That was odd, because the stories just came to her out of the blue, after some long dreamy states during laboratory sessions and boring lectures.

"I can't believe I know the Kaiser!" Suzie, the friend from the meeting of bag pins, glomped her one time. "And I'm the Kaiser's friend!"

"Stop it, I'm just an ordinary girl." Then she grinned. "Just extraordinarily obsessed with Storm, that's all."

"Yeah, but you're a great writer, Storm fan or not. Even without thinking it was Storm, I say your work is cool. You should publish your own novel one day, you know."

"Nah, I'm not good enough for that..."

"Are you kidding? Who knows? You might actually earn money!"

Kai was not convinced.

"Tell you what, my father knows someone from the publishing industry. I'll let him see some of your work. And if he likes it, he can link you to the publisher."

"But...Suzie...what if..."

"Well? Deal, or no deal?"

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. It was not like she was being asked to invest money in a business. "Deal."

"E-mail me a copy of 'Tomorrow' and 'Coming Back'. I'll text you about what happens," Suzie then waved and went off to her own classes.

Kai did send a copy of those short stories. Suzie said that they were accepted as quite good, as she predicted. Whenever Kai was ready, Suzie said, the publishing company would be ready to read what she completed as a first novel.

But she put it at the back of her head. She was in the height of Storm fangirling by then, and the Kaiser's principal concern was churning out more and more short stories.

However, recently another thing was beginning to distract her at night while she tried to study. It was the boy next door.

Last week a car had parked just outside the house beside theirs, a bungalow with a wide back yard and a high gate. They did not get a chance to see who was checking out the house for sale, but within a few days they heard the moving in and out of vans and trucks.

When she passed by the sari-sari store, she heard news gleaned from nosier neighbors that the furniture that was being brought in was rather classy, or at least more expensive than theirs. None of those typical sofas with curly wood furnishings and dusty upholstery. The sofas were smooth and sleek, and came with a small coffee table to match. They also saw a security guard get posted just behind the gate, and someone assigned to clean the house bring in her bags.

“A security guard! The new neighbor must be rich!” the people whispered while they waited for their softdrinks.

“If they’re rich, why live here? Why not in some classier place?”

“Maybe they just want to show us they’re rich but they really aren’t…”

“Good point, good point…”

“Maybe it’s just some businessman, rich enough for a guard in the house but not successful enough for a place in Ayala…”

“Maybe…at least we have someone ELSE we can ask for a loan if we need it!”

“You’re not thinking…”

“Well, you’ll never know…in these trying times…”

The nerve of these people, Kai thought, already thinking about borrowing from a neighbor who had barely moved in.

But they never saw who it was exactly that moved in. The new neighbor was one of those people who stayed inside the car while the person inside opened the gate and let the car into the garage. In that respect, Kai knew a little more than the rest of their neighbors, because their house had a second floor, and her room had a good view of the bungalow next door, as well as its garage.

The first time she saw the new neighbor happened one night while she was trying to cram for an exam. She got up from her desk and walked to the window overlooking the next door property.

It was around midnight when she saw the brightness of a car’s headlights pass her room. She looked down the window and saw a dark and heavily-tinted sedan stop at the gate. The security guard came running to the front gate and opened it, letting the dark sedan in. The car stopped just past the gate.

A young man stepped out of the car. Even in the darkness Kai saw that he was well-dressed in a brand-name collared shirt and equally branded, well-pressed black pants. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. He closed--not slammed--the car door and walked into the house, followed by a well-dressed young woman and a serious-looking middle-aged man. His sister and his father? Maybe.

Her eyes followed the group of three inside the house as it was lit. She did not mean to be a snoop, but – like everyone else in the little village – she was curious about the new neighbors, and she was currently in the best position to learn more about them. But she did not take a pair of binoculars, or go out of her way to peek through the windows if the people in the house disappeared from her view. She was not THAT much of a snoop. She would hate it if her other neighbors snooped on her, too.

The young man stayed in the living room, the part most visible from her window on the second floor. He slouched on the smooth and sleek sofa the neighbors had admired from a distance, while still wearing that classy shirt. He had already taken off the shades, and she got a better view of his face, handsome and refined. This guy was a heartbreaker, she thought from the second floor.

Then, not too suddenly, he looked out the large window of the living room, and up to her second floor window.

It caught her quite by surprise, and she stepped back unconsciously. She felt the warmth of her cheeks. She felt her breathing increase in speed. But, more importantly, she remembered the quick glance of his face that she got.

The face was striking, immediately memorable…and she had the sinking feeling that she had seen that face before, but she could not place where just then, and from that distance.

He had seen her, it was clear. He gave her a small and mysterious smile, then looked away again.

She walked back to her desk, still panting and still warm at the cheeks. Study! STUDY! She reminded herself. Biochem exam, tomorrow! He can wait! But Biochem exam is tomorrow!

She gave up after an hour. None of the chemical structures were sticking to her head. All she could remember was that face looking up at her from the window. She went to bed and promised herself to move her desk to the window tomorrow.

Her thoughts could not get away from that image of a good-looking guy in dark pants and a smart shirt. She wanted to know more about him…much like the way she wanted to know more about Storm, anything she could get her hands on. She managed to focus enough on the exam to finish it within an hour. But while she transferred her answers to an answer sheet, her thoughts were no longer on the questions in front of her. They were imagining that young man she had seen from her second floor window.

Sorry, Storm, you have a rival for today, she apologized to herself.

When she came home, she did move her desk to the window.

That night, after the stress from the cramming and the test itself, she typed up a short story of that scene of a nondescript college girl looking down at a Storm clone, and just dreaming. Within three days, it had been passed around the fangirl grapevine, and hailed as one of her better pieces.

She did not notice it too much. She was still a little too engrossed in wondering about her cute new neighbor.

Eventually she noted that the lady and the middle-aged man did NOT live with the gentleman. They stayed for an hour after they all arrived at the house, then the two left, riding a car just outside the gate, leaving the gentleman inside the house, alone. So he was a bachelor, she deduced. Alone in a rather large bungalow. She had to wonder why.

Her greatest treat happened two days later, when she was cramming past midnight and awake when he came home rather late at night, around 2am. The lady and the middle-aged man did not come into the house with him then. He went into the house by himself, and disappeared for a few minutes from her view on the second floor window.

But when he came back to the living room, he carried an old, beat-up acoustic guitar and sat with it on the sofa. He almost always had a pencil and paper in front of him, placed on the coffee table. Then he would take up the guitar, and strum it slowly. He hummed a little along with the strumming, stopping once in a while to scribble something onto the paper. This went on for an hour or so. Then, from his living room window, she heard the delicate music of the guitar, playing a sweet song, sometimes sad but sometimes cheerful, always beautiful and haunting. The music drifted upward to her second floor window, and she heard the melodies in her sleep at the desk.

When she woke up with the sunrise, he was gone, probably to bed. But the melody he played would play in her head while she ate breakfast and while she showered. The music continued to play in her head while she left the house and went to school.

That is, until she rode the bus and drowned herself in Storm’s music, as usual. She then forgot all about that mysterious new neighbor, and got lost in his reachable, but mystifying music.

But these days were not the times to be thinking about Storm stories, or even original stories.

The deadline for a research paper was nearing, and she still had to type up the rough draft for that paper. Her notes were scattered all over the floor, but those she immediately needed were in a haphazard stack at the desk near the window. Her textbooks kept most of the papers safely in their places.

She raised the textbook on the papers at the desk, shuffling through them, searching for that page that had all the data for the experiments her group had done, the most important sheets of paper in the whole set.

“Argh, where IS it?” she scratched her head, and went downstairs again to see if the stack beside the computer had the data. The stack downstairs did not have the data, so she went back up to her room.

She went through each pile of papers on the floor. She finally found the experiment data on a stack of papers under a pillow. She sighed with relief that it was all there. But it was then that she noticed, she had forgotten to place the textbook back over the stack on the desk.

A sudden gust of wind passed by her window, taking up her notes and sending them flying out the window.

“MY PAPERS!” she wailed.

She watched hopelessly as the papers were blown in circles just beyond her window, and ultimately fell into the yard of the house next door. The back yard was now strewn with yellow and white paper, like very large confetti.

She DEFINITELY had to get those papers back. They were the notes she made for her research paper. The white papers were photocopies of more important book pages, as well as copies of journals. If she could help it, she had no intentions of going back to the library, and spending time and money to re-copy those pages.

She had to get those papers back. From next door.

Next door.

She suddenly realized…

She now had quite a good excuse to meet the mysterious new neighbor.

She did not know what she was more anxious about: getting all her papers back, or meeting the guy she had seen from her window.

She took a quick shower, put on one of her nicer shirts and jeans, fixed her hair in a ponytail, and went next door.

She rang the doorbell, hoping that the good-looking owner (or the guard or the maid or whoever went to the gate to answer) would be calm and reasonable enough, hear her through, and quickly hand over her project papers. She hoped the person would not rant about careless neighbors. She hoped that the person would be nice enough to let her in, and even give her some juice, at least.

She patiently waited for a few minutes. Finally the gate opened.

“Yes?”

She smiled shyly and looked at her shoes. “Um, hi, I live next door and I’m sorry but some of my papers….”

Then she looked up, and her jaw dropped, and all time and words stopped.

A handsome young man had answered the door. From that close range, she found that she knew the young man, at least by face.

She knew him as Storm.

Chapter 3

He was still standing in front of her. “Yes? You were saying?”

She was still staring at the guy in a white shirt that barely covered a well-defined chest. The situation was already embarrassing as it was, and she did not know what to do next.

And he was still talking. “Can I get you anything? Do you want to go in and lie down?”

“Maybe,” she muttered. “I don’t know…but…why are you…has anyone told you….”

“That I look like that pop star?” he answered with a grin. “Yeah, a lot of times.”

She heaved a sigh of relief. A lookalike. Who lived next door. Not bad at all having a good-looking guy next door, especially when that good looking guy looked a whole lot like her ultimate favorite singer.

“So you’re the one who’s been looking at me from there,” he noted, and pointed at her window.

She blushed. “Erm, yeah, that would be me.”

He chuckled. “Why don’t you come in for some iced tea? It’s okay. Candy won’t mind. Although Sir Horacio might kill me…” He opened the gate a little more, and gestured for her to come in.

She stepped into the gate. She grinned. “Kai Santos. Nice meeting you. Your name is?”

He did not answer immediately. He looked at her from head to foot, front and back. He looked deep into her eyes. He rubbed his chin. Then he smiled.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, although I’ll appreciate it if you don’t tell anyone else.”

“Okay,” she said, although she did not understand what the guy was saying.

He walked beside her, and stepped up so that he was only a few inches away. He spoke into her ear, gently and with a beautiful crooning voice.

“Do you know why I look like that pop star?”

Corny line incoming, she thought as she rolled her eyes, but she let him go on with it. “No, why?”

“Because I am that pop star.”

She stopped walking, turned around, and stared.

“They call me Storm. Pleased to meet you.”

Now most stories of this kind would have Kai fainting in the arms of the guy who just said he was named Storm. She would then be brought into the house, in his arms, until she regained consciousness as she looked up into the deep brown eyes of that handsome guy. Kai had actually thought of writing the event in that way, like most stories went. Heaven knows she wrote it that way in the little stories she had done prior to this major undertaking, her first book. But that would not be true, and people won’t believe it anyway.

What really happened was this: Kai raised an eyebrow.

“Oooo…kay…” She thought that the guy was definitely toying with her, and her initial thoughts about his good looks were starting to fade, very quickly. “So what does your mother call you?”

He chuckled again. “So you don’t believe me?”

“Are you kidding?” she laughed to his face. “Storm won’t be living HERE! He would live in Ayala, or in one those classy condos in Ortigas, in the penthouse. But not HERE!”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, and he would be sitting in a nice white sofa, eating taho like we read he always does…”

“Taho?”

“Yeah, they say he has this thing for taho, the cheap kind, too, from those vendors. He gets his personal assistant to buy it for him every morning. And he always makes sure that he has some, wherever he goes.”

He laughed. “Where did you find out?”

“The fan magazines, where else? They say he mentioned it once on a talk show. Don’t you notice that a lot of fangirls are buying taho right now because they say HE does?” Frankly Kai wondered why she was spouting out like the fangirl she was in front of such a nice and handsome guy who was probably thinking she had gone crazy. Surely she was not making a great first impression on him. So she stopped. “I’m sorry. I’m a big fan of Storm, and I take in every little trivia I can. I know you’re not interested…”

“No, it’s okay, Candy has a tendency to be like that, too,” he said.

“Candy?” She sighed. “Oh…” So the guy already had a girlfriend.

“No, it’s not what you think,” the guy said. “Candy is my cousin. She…comes around every day.”

“Okay.” That was a relief. “But you haven’t told me your name yet.”

He looked at her for a long moment again, like he was wondering if he should give his name, as if it were a crucial secret password. Finally he nodded. “Bob. Bob Sarmiento.”

“As in Robert?” she asked.

“Yup.”

“So why not Robby or something, um, cool-er?”

“I actually like being called Bob,” he said. “Wait, I forget, what are you here for again?”

Now that the initial shock was gone and the tension had died down, she also suddenly remembered why she was there in the first place. “Oh, that’s right! Some of my papers got blown out the window and into your backyard. I’m sorry, but I want them back. They’re for my research project, and I don’t want to reconstruct what I have in those papers all over again.

“I see. Why don’t you come into the house for some iced tea while I go get your papers?”

“You, yourself? OH, I don’t want to be a bother, I’ll do it myself…”

”No, it’s perfectly alright. I was also wondering what those little sheets of paper were that flew by a few minutes ago. I know where they are.”

“That’s so, so nice of you, thanks a lot!”

A little of her confidence about the guy was returning. He made rather bad pickup lines, but on the whole he seemed really nice and friendly.

The young man invited her inside the house – a rather well-kept house and living room, considering that he was a bachelor. She looked around. The house was simply decorated. A painting of rice fields on the wall, a few touches of provincial life here and there. It was obvious that a man lived there, because there were no frilly tablecloths or vases with flowers anywhere. But it was not messy, either, something she found surprising. She saw a woman in uniform scurrying about with a broom, and she understood that someone else was keeping it clean, that he was glad for the assistance.

She finally saw the enviable white sofa up close, and in front of it was the coffee table that she had heard about. She was urged to sit on the sofa, which she did, but she kept close to the edge of the seat for fear of soiling it. She was made to wait while he went out and collected the papers strewn all over the backyard.

Scattered on top of the table were various music sheets and other papers. So the guy was into music, for real! She did not understand the music itself, just that the sheets were full of notes and lyrics to some potentially mushy songs. A songwriter! Maybe a performer, too, from the way he heard him play a few nights before. He was turning out to be quite an interesting guy.

She watched helplessly as he tripped a lot while trying to get the papers. Either that or he dropped the papers over and over again. She wished that it was just because he was looking at her, but he wasn’t. He was just tripping over his shoelaces. She wanted to laugh at this new neighbor, at how clumsy he was. But she always found herself stopping just when he looked at her with a sheepish grin, and immediately tripped again.

He finally finished getting all of her papers, and he came back to the living room, leaves of grass on his shirt and slippers, and even one perched above his forehead. He stacked up the papers, then gave them to her. Besides one or two that got stuck on the roof, all the papers were there. Kai made a huge sigh of relief.

"You know, you didn't have to go through such trouble..." she said, embarrassed that he did.

"No, it's really okay. Besides, I was getting bored." He took up a pair of glasses on the coffee table and perched them over his nose. “That’s better.”

“So that’s why you kept tripping.” She shook her head.

“Sorry. So what are you in school for?" he asked.

"Biology," she answered. "Nothing special. Just a lot of things that creep and crawl. You? What do you do?"

"Nothing special. Singing, playing guitar, writing songs."

"But that's way cool!"

"People think so. Yeah, I guess you're right.” He grinned. “Hey, are the people here any good?"

Thus, Kai went on to talk about her village, about how the neighbors knew other neighbors from one or two generations, but that they accepted newcomers, too. She warned that being such a close-knit street, neighbors tended to be nosy, but they were generally nice people, and that none of them wanted ill of people who did not deserve ill will.

"Good, that's good. The last place I lived in had SUCH gossips, I only lasted a month there!"

"Well, the people here are gossips, too, but many are working people so they don't have time for it. A lot of them were envying your sofa, though!"

"OH, this?" He patted the white sofa. "From my dad. Would you believe it? It's incredible, the people that my father knows..."

"Business?"

"Yeah. Rice and other stuff."

"Heard it's having trouble."

"It's having trouble for those who aren't good at it, and my dad's good at it."

"Your mom?"

He pointed upward.

"I'm sorry," Kai said.

"Died at childbirth. So I'm a lola's kid." He was sad, of course, but he did not seem to miss her.

“But you’re grandmother’s nice, I suppose?” Kai moved the discussion forward.

"Yup, she is. She spoiled me, my father keeps saying.” He gulped at his iced tea, and hmphed. “I don't normally talk this much, you know."

"Really?" Because he seemed to be a regular chatterbox right now!

If it was true that he was a 20-something working for a music company, he sure did not act like one. He still acted like someone still in college, even high school, at home with a group of nerds. But Kai actually liked the way he chatted. Spontaneous, unplanned. Without an agenda. She let him chat on and on. She was not much for talking, anyway; she always found herself without words. Although, she could not help feeling that she had unleashed a whirling dervish, when she let a nerd talk like a nerd.

Time flew past between several glasses of iced tea, conversations about organic chemistry and sheet music, and several bags of chips. Even Kai did not realize how long she stayed seated at the new neighbor’s white sofa, until her mother called on the cellular phone.

"Where are you? It's been four hours!" her mother’s voice came through the phone.

"Just next door, mom, with the new neighbor."

"Well, get back here already, we'll be having dinner soon."

Kai said yes, apologized to the Storm clone for having to leave all of a sudden, and picked up her papers.

"No, that's okay,” Bob said. “I have stuff to do tonight. Thanks for spending the afternoon here. Nice meeting you, Kai."

“I can’t believe it,” She said. “It’s like we’ve been friends for a while, the way we chatted today.”

“Would it be so bad if we did become friends?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” Kai chuckled.

“You’re okay having a showbiz friend?”

“If it’s you, sure, why not?” A new silly nerdy friend can’t get any cuter than this!

“You asked for it,” he warned.

They exchanged phone numbers, and he promised to tell her whenever he was home, so they could have snacks together again.

Another chance for what could be the closest thing to talking to Storm himself. Of course she was not passing up on the offer.

Chapter 4

Most fangirls, as previously mentioned, never let others see that they are fangirls, because they are afraid, rightfully so, that people would think they were crazy. If they suddenly told someone about any aspect of their obsession, without being sure if they shared their obsession, more often than not the person raised one eyebrow at them and walked away…FAR away. So the fangirls keep living in their heads, thinking about their object of obsession every waking moment….but you would not know it from the way they kept up a serious, no-nonsense exterior.

Kai managed to keep her composure while at home. It was hard, but she did it, as she told her mother with incredible calm that she had met the new neighbor, and that he was a yuppie, quite good-looking, and generally nice. Her mother approved of her description, and was glad to have a good new neighbor. But as she calmly continued the conversation, her brain was screaming inside of her, And he looks exactly like my number one favorite singer! Things couldn’t get any better than this!

Even on the way to school, she presented the exterior appearance of the good student riding the bus to school early. In reality, she just wanted to listen to the station almost all the buses used nowadays, because that station often played a lot of Storm’s songs in the morning.

I just met someone almost like him! I met someone almost like him! Her head kept singing, even as she got off the bus. I just met someone quite like Storm!

It was only when she saw Denise that she suddenly let out all the emotions she kept hidden.

She squealed and ran up to her. “You SO won’t believe this!” She shook her friend by the shoulders and kept shaking and shaking her.

Her friend, shaken but not stirred, managed to sit themselves down on a nearby bench. “What, what?”

“We have a new neighbor!”

Her friend looked at Kai like she had gone crazy. “Yeah, so?”

“He’s a cute, super-cute guy. Really sweet, incredibly nice. And, you know what else?”

“No, what?”

“He looks exactly like Storm!”

“You mean that good-looking singer you keep ranting about?”

“Oh, yeah! He’s like a carbon-copy, no, a photocopy, or a scanned image! He’s 5’11”, his hair is brown-black, not solid black. He even parts his hair exactly the same way, not in a perfectly straight line, but in an elegant curving line. ”

Her friend was not convinced. “Kai, that obsession has just gone to your head.”

It’s because of reactions like that, that fangirls almost always stayed in the closet. But Denise was a close friend from the pre-Storm era, and it did not matter much if she went fangirly with her, no matter what Denise personally felt about it.

“I’m not kidding! I’ll even take a picture of him someday and I’ll show you! Better yet, if you come home with me and help me with my assignment, I’ll knock next door and I’ll let you meet him.”

Meeting a cute guy who might look like a famous person was interesting any day, so Denise agreed to go home with her after school. But when they got there, and Kai rang the doorbell, they were met by a dark and sweaty security guard. “He isn’t home yet, sorry,” the security guard said, stiffly but amiably, recognizing Kai.

“Awwww….” She sighed and sulked. “Well, maybe next time.”

Her friend giggled and nudged Kai as they walked back to her house. “I still say your obsession has gone to your head.”

“Maybe,” Kai giggled as well. “But guys as cute as Bob get to your head.”

And get to her head, he did.

After that afternoon conversation with Bob, there were a few more things she noticed about Storm’s songs that she had not noticed before. She now realized how hard it was to make a song, much less a hit song. You had to have a tune, similar to current favored styles but different enough to make your song stand out from the crowd of new songs. You had to have words, words that people could relate to, besides rhyming and sounding right with the music. The fact that Storm seemed to have both in so many songs made Kai admire her favorite singer all the more. Storm was a genius! But once in a while Kai did remember it was Bob who enlightened her about Storm’s great talent. He had a way of explaining the music, such that she too felt the emotion and the effort that went into a great song.

She learned to like Storm more. She learned to like Bob more. With each passing day.

However, it was not helping her waistline, this acquaintance with Bob. He was not home every afternoon, but when he was around, he always had a lot of food. Two boxes of buko pie, three dozen donuts, or a whole box of ensaymada. He said that the crew at a photo shoot or a recording session insisted that he bring them home. So he did, and he always called Kai to help him finish it. Once in a while she did wonder what her classmates would think about her getting fat. But with such great buko pie from Laguna…who could resist?

Her daily schedule was not aligned with his. She lived during the day; evidently he worked better at night.

On regular, non-exam school nights, she would go to bed with the house next door already closed and dark, except for a small light in the garage. If she had been lucky earlier that afternoon, she would have heard the gate open next door to let out the dark and heavily-tinted sedan, and she would have known that Bob had left to do something that night.

When she woke up in the morning, all the lights in the house next door would still be out. Sometimes when she looked out the window, she saw him in the living room sofa, fast asleep, still wearing the clothes he had on when he came home after midnight. His guitar would be on the floor next to the sofa, and the papers strewn around the floor and the coffee table.

Their times most aligned late in the afternoon. She had just come home from school by then, and he would be awake already, getting ready to go out and do something that night. Almost always he would send her a short text message, asking to come over and help him finish a box of donuts, a new packet of instant iced tea, usually a combination of both. Unless she was doing something for her mother, she almost always agreed. After all, they were free donuts. He usually offered to buy her taho as well when he heard the deep and melodic call, but she declined most of the time. She liked the sago and the tofu, but the caramel was too sweet for her liking.

“So get the kind that takes out the caramel,” he offered.

“It’s not taho that way,” she said.

“You have a point,” he sighed, and scooped up another spoonful from the plastic cup.

They talked about everything and nothing for an hour or two, until someone called him on his cellular phone. She often heard the shouting at the other line. “WHY are you still at home, Bob? You have to be here by 7!”

“Sure, Candy,” he replied. “I’m going.” He then ended the call and grinned at Kai with embarrassment. “I have stuff to do tonight. Thanks for merienda.”

“Why are you thanking me? You’re the one who fed me!” Kai answered.

“You ate with me. Thanks.”

With little variation, that is how it always was. He seemed relieved every time she came and those afternoons started, and he was always reluctant to see the sun setting and the afternoons end. He actually liked the routine, she noticed. She liked it, too, she had to admit. Not just the free food, but the conversation.

He had a different look on the world. Most people, he noted, wanted to be famous. He just wanted the chance to know what he could do – then disappear. He was still in the middle of finding out, that was why he still liked being in the scene. But, one day, one day, he promised himself, he would disappear. From the way he sounded, the disappearance might happen any time soon.

“But, disappear from what?” she asked once.

“From, from, everyone.”

Kai raised an eyebrow. “You sound like an old man.”

“I might not live to be one, you see.”

He stood up from the sofa, and went to the kitchen. He returned with another batch of iced tea in a pitcher and two glasses.

“Why did you move here, anyway?” Kai asked him.

“It’s cheaper here, and less conspicuous,” he said.

“But the traffic in the morning, and in the afternoons…”

“The driver knows some good shortcuts from here, don’t worry,” he told her.

“What IS it that you do at night, anyway?”

“Different things. Sometimes it’s a press conference. Sometimes it’s a photo shoot. Other days it’s a recording session.”

“Cool.”

He looked down and sighed. “Yeah.”

She noticed his lackluster reply. “It isn’t?”

He kept looking at the floor. “Writing the songs, playing the music, singing the songs – it’s all wonderful, you understand. It’s these other things that I don’t like. Meeting people who think they know you, but they don’t.”

She nodded, then stopped. “Wait…so you mean you work with showbiz people? So you’ve met Storm?” she asked eagerly.

He started to laugh. “You still don’t believe me!”

“But he’s cool and suave and a perfect dresser and always sings with perfect pitch and plays the guitar so wonderfully…”

“Not like me?” he asked and sighed again. “Has it occurred to you that people are paid to make sure artists have a perfect image?”

“Well, sure, but…” But she figured that even in his down time, Storm would be cool and suave and a perfect dresser and would sing in perfect pitch and would always play the guitar wonderfully.

Bob took up his glass of iced tea and took a large gulp. “Oh, Kai. People on TV are people, too. They are normal people in abnormal lifestyles. They’re human, and they make mistakes.”

“Sure, I know that…”

“…but you’re hoping you don’t get to see it,” he concluded.

The reply surprised her. Her mouth stayed open, the words she was supposed to say stuck in her throat.

“Thought so,” he said, and gulped at his iced tea. “You’re disappointed that Storm’s a regular person?”

She thought about for a while. Then she looked at Bob. She shook her head. “I’d be glad that he’s a NICE regular person. Not a bad person with a nice-guy image.”

“Okay.” And Bob moved on to discuss other things.

She began to wonder what it would be like to be more than friends with the guy who happened to look like her idol. Would she like him for himself, or would her infatuation for Storm always interfere with their relationship? She shook her head. Why was she thinking about a relationship, when they had just met?

"THAT's the problem with girls like you," Denise tsked when they chatted about it. "You always look for dream boys. So when a nice but imperfect boy comes around, you ignore him. Simply because he's not a dream boy."

Kai unfortunately had to agree. Since she always thought about Storm, she was probably ignoring a couple of good-looking classmates in their own batch. Really nice guys, too. But this one was always singing out of tune during karaoke stints when there were long vacant periods, and this other one was just plain too geeky for her taste with the way he always talked about Gundams and other anime-related things.

In that vein, Bob, to her, was pretty much a nice friend from next door, but nothing more. He was funny in his way, and he was very informative. But he was quite too clumsy. And he ate too much. And he talked and talked and talked about notes and melodies and arpeggios and fortissimos and other Italian words she did not know. She sometimes wanted to take revenge and pile on the Latin and scientific jargon she learned in school. But it was a pointless fight, she knew that much.

But she loved how he messed up his hair whenever the song he was writing refused to get written. She loved how he lost his glasses while talking to her, then kept patting the coffee table and the sofa to look for the glasses later. She loved how he wore loose shirts, and how his torso liked rather good under them.

Maybe she also loved...himself? Maybe it was just the donuts talking. Or the taho. But she was starting to like him.

She never noticed that she only knew him from inside his house.

Chapter 5

Her cellphone buzzed, and she read the message.

"Just finished work. You free this afternoon?"

Those two sentences were the signal for free snacks and drinks from next door, and unless she had to do a joint project at a friend's house, she always said yes. As in this case. She texted that she was free and would soon be coming home.

But the people around her had read the message. Her school friends and classmates began to tease. "She's going on a daaa...ate! She's going on a daaa...ate!"

She did NOT consider donuts and iced tea next door a date, and she said so. "It's just Bob, the guy next door."

"The CUTE guy next door!" a classmate hazarded.

"Well, yeah...but..."

"She's going on a daaa...ate! She's going on a daaa...ate!"

Thus Kai understood that she had been forced to confess.

She was only slightly annoyed at how distracted she seemed to be now during classes. When she was not dreaming up another short story for another Storm clone, or humming a favorite song in her head, she found her thoughts drifting back to her next-door neighbor.

For all that he talked about music, songs, and writing songs, and saying that he was in the music industry, he was always vague about it. He never liked discussing his work. He just said that he came from this recording, from this photo shoot, from this TV show. No specifics. No where and no when. Kai never met any bandmates at his house, even if she said she wanted to meet his band. Once in a while a very high-strung young woman who answered to the name of Candy visited the house. She often left, pulling Bob by the hand, or even his ear.

It was early afternoon when her cellular phone rang, and the display told her it was Bob. She was glad she was home already, ready to pick up the call.

"Hey, Kai."

"Hi!" she greeted back. Although she was rather concerned about how weak he sounded over the phone.

"Say….someone gave me some siopao...from the photo shoot...interested in..."

Then Kai got dead air. That, the sound of the car radio, and the sounds of car horns.

"Bob? Hello? I can't hear you. Bob?"

Something was not right. She left her school bag on the bed, checked her view of Bob's house on the second floor and saw that the car was not there yet. She crossed over to his house and waited for him to show up at the gate.

It was two minutes after the call went dead that the car appeared at the gate. She peered through the window, and found her friend on the back seat. “Hey, you,” she poked at his shoulder. But he was not waking up. She shouted. “HEY!” But nothing was working.

He was breathing and seemed like he was sleeping, but the fact that he was not waking up scared her. “We have to take him to the hospital,” she told the driver. “Are you game?”

The driver nodded. As if he was already used to it. Kai got into the front seat, and the car sped off to the nearest hospital.

When they reached the emergency room, Kai immediately got out, asking for help with her friend.

People knew just what to do. He was systematically lifted out of the car, placed into a rolling stretcher, and wheeled into the hospital. A rush of people came to meet him, someone quickly placing a stethoscope and a blood pressure cuff on. That someone made a few quick motions, then breathed a huge sigh of relief. Another person had placed some small tubing over his nostrils.

A lady in a white coat with the longest sleeves appeared. She said good, good, to the report that Bob was stable, then gave rapid-fire orders and letters Kai did not understand.

All the hubbub around him worried Kai terribly. “Please, answer me,” Kai begged, “will he be alright?”

“He’s fine and breathing, if that’s what you’re asking,” the doctor replied. “We’ll wait until he can talk to us.”

A second wave of people came and went. Someone took a syringe and drew out blood. Another came in with a machine, attached cables to his chest, then waited until a long strip of paper came out of the machine. Someone else in white came and approached Kai. He asked for Bob’s name, address, and other particulars. Being the person who brought him in, the person made Kai sign the paper. Then he asked her, “What happened?”

“I’m not sure, really,” Kai said. “I just found him unconscious at the back of his car when he came home. I thought he was just asleep, but I couldn’t wake him, and neither could the driver. So we brought him here.”

“Does he have an old heart problem?”

“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know. I’m just a friend.” Not a very close one at that.

The person asking the questions nodded to himself, did not explain why he asked, and went on to confer with the lady in the long-sleeved white coat, spreading out the long strip of paper.

Kai stayed with him and held his hand, not knowing what else to do. She was reassured by the regular thump-thump of his pulse at the wrist, but she was still worried why he was still unconscious. It was roughly ten minutes already, nearing fifteen minutes.

Were his predictions coming true before her eyes? Would he, indeed, not live long?

He finally opened his eyes, and looked around. He seemed relieved to see Kai beside him. “This isn’t my house,” he said. “Where are we?”

“At the hospital,” she explained. “You fainted.”

“Won’t be the first time it has happened,” he shrugged nonchalantly, but weakly. “Sorry for bothering you, though.”

She could not believe how calm he was about it. She had panicked, she had been quite ready to pray and promise anything as long as God made sure he was fine. But he was lying back in the hospital stretcher, like nothing happened.

“Ah, good, you’re finally awake, sir,” the young doctor said, rather in a rush. “One important question, first of all: Has any doctor told you about a heart disease, before this?”

He was pale, but ready to talk. “Someone told my father that I have a little something wrong with the valves, but that’s all,” he said. “It does make me get tired easily,” he admitted.

“Tired easily is an understatement!” the young doctor tsked.

“Work schedule is bad,” he admitted.

“You have to slow down. The more this happens, the shorter your life will be.”

“I can’t,” he whispered. “Not yet. Not just yet.”

The lady in the white coat heard this last bit. “AT LEAST get a 2D-echo the soonest time possible, and a checkup, and a full workup. ASAP. If you come here again without those results you’re not getting any treatment next time.”

“Now, that’s harsh!” Kai blurted.

“Just kidding,” the senior doctor said. “But get that 2D-echo. That’s an order.” She left again, and the junior doctors and hospital staff took over. The hospital staff let him rest for a while longer while they waited for the laboratory results.

Kai kept quiet, wondering what he meant by not stopping yet, not just yet. She did not know what to do. Except maybe hold his hands. That was all she did, the only thing she knew she could do at that moment.

When the laboratory exams results came back, so did the lady in the long white sleeved coat. She spoke to Bob. “No heart attack. That’s good. The lab results are normal. But the ECG confirms your heart problem, and it’s proof that you’re overworking it. One. Get rested tomorrow. Two. Get that checkup.” She smiled. “You’re free to go home. To REST, do you hear me? Or you’ll be confined here against your will.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered that powerful force of nature.

The driver settled the emergency room bill with Bob’s credit card. The driver and Kai helped Bob into the car, and they went on home.

He kept looking out the windows at the billboards while in the car. Kai continued to admire the car she was in, with its comfortable seats, the soft upholstery, the surprisingly inexpensive –even cheap – stereo system.

“Kai.”

“Yeah?”

“About this going to the hospital…”

“Hmmmm?”

“It’s….it’s a secret…alright?”

“But, you’re sick!”

“Candy and Sir Horacio already know about this,” he smiled. “No one else has to.”

“But why not?”

“I don’t want people feeling sorry for me, and giving me favors,” he said.

She agreed.

“I made a promise to my grandmother when she let me do this,” he told her. “I would just see this through. Then I would disappear.”

“There you go about disappearing again…”

“Just see what it was like, then leave.”

“Reach the sun and the moon, then come back to earth?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re weird.”

“I know.” He sighed and leaned back onto the car seat. “I know.”

Chapter 6

She personally made sure that he stayed the next day. But she did not get to see him for a few days after that. He texted a few words about being busy at work, and she replied with earnest messages that he take care of himself.

He replied to them with only two words: “No favors.”

She understood, and said no more. All the same, she found it hard not to say anything, especially when she visited and found him more exhausted than he should be.

He tossed onto the coffee table a few sheets of paper stapled together. Kai took them up, read through them and looked at the accompanying black and white picture. Then she shook her head. "I'm a biology student, not a medical student."

"I don't get it either," he said. "But the doctor person said I should be alright, IF I slow down."

"That's easy enough."

He shook his head. "What if you told your mom you won't graduate in time because you have to underload?"

"She'll be disappointed."

"That's the point." He flopped down on the sofa and sighed.

But he seemed to gain a little hidden strength whenever he saw her, and talked with her, and ate in the afternoons with her. It was one of the reasons why she kept coming back, besides the fact that he really was interesting to be with. The way he kept on chatting about music theory like they were old friends, the way he avoided talking about the music industry, even if he was a part of it.

“How come we never talk about biology, aye, Kai?” he asked.

“Nah, it’s not very interesting…all those chemicals and those scientific names…”

“So how come you’re still studying it?”

“Well, it’s not BORING, if that’s what you mean. Learning how animals and other living things connect to each other IS cool, you know. Just tiring. And some of the teachers don’t know how to teach.”

“I feel exactly the same way, just with different people,” Bob nodded.

“But all the parties…all the interesting people…the celebrities…”

“Seriously, there’s nothing interesting about showbiz,” he said. “It’s full of people you don’t want to mess with, but people you can’t live without.”

“Talk about biting the hand that feeds you…”

“That’s why I said I’m just staying long enough to say I’ve seen it. Then I’ll leave.”

“But why?”

“You know…I’m not really sure…”

“So stay. Find something you can do for them, without giving in to everything.”

“Hmmm, good point….”

He looked more like a computer geek that Saturday morning, a pair of low-grade glasses over his nose, just with a good hairdo and a smooth face. He still looked cute, though, in a geeky sort of way.

“Change your glasses! They don’t suit you,” Kai giggled.

“Well, I haven’t had the chance to go to the optical shop since I’ve been in Manila…”

“You mean you haven’t been to Ayala Center?”

“Well, not like the way you have been to it, Kai. I’m new here.”

“My friend, you haven’t been to Manila if you haven’t been to the malls!” she laughed. “When are you free? I’ll give you a grand tour.”

“Well…” he thought for a moment. “I remember Candy saying I don’t have any projects today…so I’m free right now!”

She raised an eyebrow. Didn’t these music-type people have gigs and places to be on weekends? Still, she did not mention it. “That’s cool. At least now I have company when I go buy that social science book I need,” Kai said. “Are you game?”

He did that searching-possible-security-breeches scanning of her that he frequently did, then said, “Yup, I’m game.”

They went to the mall using the car. Bob insisted. He said it would be less of a hassle that way. Kai actually had to agree; the traffic was rather bad on Saturdays when going to Ayala Center.

“You lead the way, okay?” Bob said.

“Let’s go to the optical shop first, then the bookstore,” Kai said. “You choose where we go for lunch.”

They did not hold hands, but they kept close together, as they entered the mall.

Kai first took him to an optical shop with a wide selection of frames. She giggled while Bob took his time trying on various styles, from frames too outrageously large for his eyes and face, to frames that were too small for him.

“Not that one! You look like Elton John!” she grinned.

“This one makes me look like an alien!” he countered.

“And that one makes you look like Stevie Wonder!”

He parodied the famous singer, “I just called…to say…I love you…” as Kai kept giggling.

They finally settled on a semi-rectangular frame that seemed to be quite in the current style. He still looked like a computer geek. But a more stylish computer geek. Kai could not complain.

As they walked to the bookstore, Kai noticed that a lot of people were looking at Bob, looking past her and looking just at Bob. She shrugged. Bob did look like Storm, after all, and Storm was still a phenomenon. But the way people’s eyes just pierced through her to get to Bob did hurt her. It was as if she was less than human. It was as if she was just a ghost, or just air around a celebrity.

It was even worse when they got to the bookstore, where a lot of people could get close to other people. More staring at Bob. More whispering among girlfriends who peeped through bookshelves. She kept hearing the magic word in the air. Storm. Storm. Is it Storm? Is it? Is it?

Bob, for his part, ignored them all with a sigh. He waited patiently while Kai searched the bookshelves for her textbook, then asked the store clerk where she could find her book. His eyes gravitated toward the magazines. Some of them even had Storm on the front cover. But Kai was too busy worrying about her social science textbook to think about it.

She felt better when they passed the record store. She tugged at him to stop walking, so they could go in.

Kai quickly found her way to the section where albums for chart-toppers were placed, strategically near the cashier. She was in her element, a world she knew quite well. This was the world of music created by Storm.

Her hands caressed the albums stacked there, raising each CD up to her hands, then lowering them again carefully. She touched them like they were the crown jewels. She touched them that way, because she could never buy those CDs for herself. She did not have to, as every song in every album was now stored in her PC on mp3. But she still wanted the money and the chance to buy those CDs, to personally touch them, to actually open the booklets they had, and admire the many pictures of Storm that each CD had.

Then she saw IT among the stacks of CDs. The limited-edition album. A collection of Storm’s songs, unplugged, just him playing the guitar and singing into a microphone. All the richer fangirls ranted about that album. They all said it was money well spent. It was a high-quality recording, and it was full of pictures of his appearances at various gigs and concerts. Unfortunately she could not find money to save for it, with all the photocopying she had to do for school.

She looked at Bob for a moment. He, too, was in his element, as he went through the display racks, in the dazed and euphoric state that she knew so well. The state of just being in the same environment as so many of those things he loved, even if he could not purchase them. Just the thought of being there, feeling their presence, savoring how each and every article on the shelf pulled at him to buy them.

“I hate not having money,” he sighed.

“So do I,” she sighed with him. “Wait…don’t you have more money than I do? With your fancy job and all?”

“OH, that’s right…” he chuckled. “I keep forgetting.” He scanned through the racks. “Can I buy you any of the things here? As a remembrance.”

She desperately wanted that limited-edition CD. But the CD cost at least a thousand pesos, and she could not make Bob spend so much on someone like her. She looked at the limited-edition CD with longing – then shook her head.

“Are you sure?” he asked again.

“Yup, quite sure, thanks,” but she kept looking at the limited-edition CD. And she kept glancing at it as they walked out of the record store. She hoped it would not be a total loss, and that she would eventually hear what the music in the CD. She was close online friends with one of the rich fangirls – maybe she would be nice enough to give her mp3 copies within a few days.

He tapped her on the shoulder. She looked up at him, and found his eyes twinkling.

“I’ll get you a free copy from Candy. One of those complimentary things that the sponsors didn’t get from us.”

She did not take him seriously, but if he was serious it would be really cool. Either way, it was a nice gesture, whether he actually managed it or not. “Thanks.”

All the same, she dragged her feet out of the record store. “What do you want to eat?” she asked.

“I dunno….spaghetti? Pizza? But not fast food…fast food tastes almost the same anywhere in the country.”

Kai grinned. “I know a good place.” She took his hand, and led the way.

There was an Italian restaurant tucked away in a slightly obscure area of the mall, where not too many people passed in front, but enough people did to keep the restaurant busy. She also knew that they had large servings, something Bob would certainly appreciate.

He scanned through the menu list for half a minute then quickly ordered. “The supreme pizza, an order of carbonara, two tall glasses of iced tea, an order of chicken…”

“HEY! There’s only two of us!” Kai reminded.

“You know how much I eat,” he winked.

That was what she was afraid of.

They found seats inside the restaurant, just when Kai found a familiar face leaving. “Denise! Hi!” she waved. “And you’re with Gerard!” She waved to Denise’s boyfriend then gestured to Bob. “Denise, this is our new neighbor, Bob. You know…” and she gave her friend a knowing smile.

“Yeah, he does look a lot like him,” Denise agreed. She then giggled as she talked to Bob. “Kai gushes a lot about you, you know. She’s your biggest fan.”

He looked startled for a while, then smiled and shook Denise’s hand.

Denise and her boyfriend asked to be excused as they had other places to go. They waved goodbye to Kai and Bob, then they disappeared in the crowds. Kai and Bob were alone in a crowd once again. And for a while Kai was aware of many pairs of eyes looking at them. She chuckled. “They’re just jealous because I’m with Storm!” she said as she sipped her juice.

He did not reply.

By now she was no longer awkward around him, but she still found it rather weird that he was sitting across her, looking at her twirl the noodles around her fork. It was not helping that Bob had taken off his glasses for a while, placed his elbows on the table, then leaned his head over his hands. There was a famous picture of Storm looking exactly like that. She kept having that creepy feeling of a picture coming to life, and that picture looking at her slurp the white carbonara sauce.

“Um, do you mind? It’s weird that you’re looking at me like that,” she said.

He scratched his head. “You have an interesting way of twirling noodles.”

“And you should have done those pizza commercials! How many people really eat pizza starting with the crust?” she countered.

The background stereo played one of Storm’s songs while they ate. “ ‘Coming Back’,” she identified the song. “I made a story with that title,” she said absent-mindedly. “It has the same story as the song.”

Bob was surprised. “The song was an inspiration?”

“Yeah. That song, as well as many of Storm’s other songs.”

“You didn’t tell me you wrote stories.”

Kai blushed. “It’s just a pastime, a hobby.” She was ashamed to be talking like a crazy fangirl in front of him, especially about the Storm-clone stories, so she tried steering him away from asking further questions about it.

He would not be swayed. “How is writing stories different from songwriting?”

“Very different,” she said. “But I like the freedom it gives. In poetry, you have to think about rhyme and meter. In songwriting you have to think about the music and the words. But when you write fiction, you just keep typing and typing and typing, without stopping, until you no longer have anything to say. Of course, you have to plan it out, but you have the luxury of time and no restrictions on the words.”

“But it must be hard making such long things.”

“You get the hang of it. And I like the feeling of filling a piece of paper with black stuff,” she grinned and swallowed another forkful of pasta. “The way you like filling those music sheets of yours will little black dots.”

He nodded.

The chorus of “Coming Back” came through the restaurant’s speakers. Bob grabbed a spoon and sang along.

Kai laughed. Not only did he look a lot like Storm, he also did a great impersonation. His voice, muffled by all the other noises, Kai noted that it was smooth and sweet as well. She kept laughing as Bob mixed his warbling voice with a bad impersonation of a female singer, complete with waving arms and waving to the crowd. The other customers were giggling as well, and stopped staring at Bob and Kai.

When they finished lunch, they strolled around the mall, Kai pointing out where the computer stores were, and telling him where the other record stores could be found.

“Where else do you want to go?” she asked. “Wanna watch a movie?”

He shook his head. He just wanted to keep walking around.

But before they walked farther, they were blocked by a young woman in jeans, glasses, and an all-business air. “Bob Sarmiento!” she screeched.

He stopped and literally cowered in front of the smallish young woman. “Candy! What are you doing here? On a Saturday!”

Candy, however, looked at him VERY angrily. The woman took his hand and yanked him forward, dragging him to the most desolate area of the mall: the hall going to the restrooms. Candy then began to scream at Bob. “I’m been looking all over for you! You’re nuts, just nuts! Aren’t you afraid of getting mobbed, charged, KIDNAPPED?”

“Are you kidding me? Me get kidnapped?”

“You don’t know what fans can do, Bob. Or shall I call you…”

“DON’T,” he said with a sudden seriousness. “Not here.”

“See? Even you get it.”

He took a long deep breath, and sighed.

“The driver’s waiting for us at the parking lot,” Candy said. “The top floor, so only a few people will be there. Go on.”

“But how is SHE going to get home?” he asked, pointing at Kai.

“She can take the bus, can’t she?” Candy answered without remorse.

Kai understood, more or less, that she was no longer wanted. “Sure, Bob. I can take the bus. Don’t worry about me.”

“But…”

“I’ll be fine, Bob. Don’t worry about me.”

He scratched his head. “Oh, well. See you later, okay?”

“Okay.”

Kai took the bus, and got to her own house, exhausted. It was hot in the bus, there had been a traffic jam on the way home, and Bob was not exactly a relaxing person to be with. Besides that emotional beating she got from Candy, intentional or not.

She did what she always did to relax and to clear her head: she went online and immersed herself in the world of Storm fangirling. Surfing for scans of the newest magazine pictures of Storm, looking for any new news about him.

She scanned the information that Storm was going to be at a benefit concert that evening, along with the country’s current chart-topping bands and singers. He would be singing toward the middle of the concert, two of his best-loved songs of the last 2 months, “Someone Who Knows” and “Living Twice”.

She had only been online for fifteen minutes when her cellular phone rang. She took the call.

“Hey, Bob. You got home fine?”

“Yup, thanks. You?”

“Traffic. Used to it.”

“Come on over. I have a favor to ask.”

When Kai reached Bob’s living room, he was rushing, walking to and fro, a glass of water on one hand and a sandwich in the other. “Sorry I couldn’t entertain you properly, Kai,” he apologized as he kept rushing around the house. “I have a concert to go to tonight. Candy is going ballistic already.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about me,” she said as she collected a set of scattered papers on the coffee table and handed them to him.

He stopped in front of her to get the papers and to say his thanks. “Here’s the thing,” he added. “If I remember right, there’s someone who’s supposed to come here tonight, could you look after the house and accept the package when it comes around? You can watch TV here, help yourself to the chips…”

“Can I bring my homework? I have a book review to make…”

“Of course, of course!” he answered absentmindedly. “Thanks, thanks! I’m off, I’m off, watch the concert on TV, it’s at 9 o’clock, bye!” Then he shut the door, walked into his car, and the car left.

Kai shook her head. “There you go again wearing yourself out…”

She got her books then started on the homework on the coffee table, the television providing background noise as she scribbled notes and kept reading the book she was supposed to review. But she found it hard to concentrate on her book. She kept wondering if Bob was alright as he helped out at the concert he was going to. She hoped he was not tiring himself too much again.

She still did not have a solid idea what it was he did for the music industry. He never explained. She guessed that he helped out in the concerts, or in the productions. He always seemed to be away whenever there was an event of some sort, and usually those related to Storm. Whatever it was, she knew that as he committed to more of the work, the more he came home in the wee hours of the morning.

Then she remembered that she promised Bob that she would watch the concert. Besides, Storm would be in that concert. She helped herself to the potato chips and a glass of iced tea in the kitchen. She paid attention to the TV, just in time to see the live showbiz reports.

The reporter was saying that she was backstage in what was one of the biggest concert events of the season, where some of the current chart-toppers came together to sing for a cause. Storm was one of them, and he was just passing behind while the reporter was telling the crowd about him. She quickly stopped the singer, and he graciously paused for a few seconds.

The reporter got closer to Storm. “We’ve heard reports that you were at the mall earlier today.”

“Oh, yeah!” he answered without skipping a beat. “Quite a lot of people.”

“And you were seen with a girl…”

Kai thought she saw his face tighten. The smile definitely disappeared into a straight line. “Must be your imagination, that’s all. Or that was just my PR manager.”

“Oh, okay. But next time, tell us, so we can tell your fans to go look for you.”

Storm laughed. “I’ll try to remember that.” He waved to the camera then left to go onstage.

Kai was intrigued. Her favorite singer with a girl! So he wasn’t gay, thank goodness! He actually liked girls!

She could not help wishing, along with a hundred others, that the girl was her.

It was then that she heard the doorbell. She sighed, reluctant to leave the television at such an important part of the concert, but she went out, just in case it was the delivery of that parcel Bob mentioned.

It WAS the delivery. The person who brought the parcel did not look anyone from the usual package-delivery services.

“I’m a friend of the person who lives here,” the person explained. “He asked me to give this to you.”

“To ME?”

The person nodded.

“Um…..um…thanks…”

The person left, and Kai went back into Bob’s house, just in time to see Storm get on stage to sing. She opened the parcel, and saw a box with a card immediately above it.

Never stop wishing. Never stop dreaming.

It was in Bob’s simple cursive script. The small and careful letters she always saw in the music sheets on the coffee table.

Inside the large box were a box of chocolates… and the limited-edition CD.

Chapter 7

When she went to the unofficial but most reliable website for news about her favorite singer, she noted a hot new topic for discussion on the forum board: What kind of girl does Storm admire?

At the start of the thread was a link to a small news item printed in a showbiz magazine and posted on the magazine’s website. It seems that Storm was seen at the mall the other day with an unknown girl. The girl was described as only so-so, and dressed only so-so.

Maybe it’s a relative, that’s all! More than one forum member suggested.

According to the news article, they didn’t act like they were related. It looked like they were on a date! Others replied.

It was hard to make any solid assumptions, because the news item did not show pictures to prove their story. It just said that Storm and his lady friend were seen lunching at an Italian place (the fangirls who wanted to marry him quickly took notes about where they should be spending their lunches next time), and stayed for quite a while at the record stores (again, the fangirls took careful mental notes).

Kai, for her part, smiled happily. So Storm liked record stores, too, and liked to eat Italian. Just like her. How convenient. She could dream of what it would be like to eat carbonara with him looking at her, the next time she decided to eat at the Italian restaurant. She could keep wondering what section of the record store he spent a lot of time in, and thus guess what his personal taste in music was. It would be a great thing to remember, as she stood dazed and dreamy again at the record store one of these days.

And in the midst of all that new information about her favorite singer, another thing was beginning to bother her a lot. The next door neighbor was beginning to spend quite a lot on her. Sometimes it was time, sometimes it was food, sometimes it was a little but hard-to-find gift.

What did that mean? What plans did Bob have in his head? Were there even plans, or was he just being nice? What did he see in her? Was she sending out the impression that she liked him? Because, she had to admit, she WAS starting to like him quite a lot. Although she was not sure HOW she liked him, if as a friend or as something else, something more.

That gift of the limited-edition CD still bothered her. It used to be that Kai would just listen carefully to Storm’s voice, how it dipped and fell with the melody, and how his strumming of the guitar matched with the singing. Now, she was analyzing how Bob could possibly have gotten the limited-edition CD. How did he buy it? Did he even buy it? If he did not, who did he contact to get a copy? How close was he to Storm’s record company? How close was he to Storm?

But the biggest announcement from Storm was yet to come.

The online forums and the official website were soon full of the news. The news was whispered far and wide by all the fangirls, and spread even faster by e-mail, text message, instant messaging, and chat. The members of the online fanclub spoke of nothing but that in all their blogs.

Storm was going to have his first big concert within 2 weeks. The Araneta was reserved for the event. It would be a solo performance.

No one in the music industry could believe how Storm’s agents managed to pull it off, hiding such an important event until just two weeks before. But pull it off they had, and the tickets were selling hot and fast. The pop radio stations talked about it every hour, the malls were flooded with posters, the highways were dotted with the concert billboards.

It was made primarily to plug the newest album, but the blurbs and rumors said that he would be singing the “classics”, too, the songs that made him famous and that the fans loved the most. One of them would be “To Let You Go”, Kai’s favorite song. Like most of her online friends, she would do everything within a reasonable budget to hear him sing it, live.

“Don’t believe everything the official website says,” Bob said once. “Some of that is made to keep up interest in an artist. Part of marketing.”

She knew all that, of course. Still, she fell for it hook, line, and sinker. She wanted to learn anything and everything she could about him, fabricated or not, because it was better than nothing.

There was more than one active forum topic regarding the concert. One subject asked what he would be singing. Another subject speculated on what he would wear, or at least WHO he would wear (from which designer would his clothes be coming from). Finally there was that forum topic on the most important question: “Are you going?”

Poor Kai unfortunately had to say, “No.”

She sighed as she looked through her savings … which could not exactly be called savings. It was collection of coins in a coin box. She had spent most of her Christmas money on other things, mostly stuff related to her infatuation with Storm. She had no extra money to spare for concert tickets. She still had to buy a comparative anatomy book, and that just covered the price of a ticket at the farthest seat. Kai could not lie; if her mother did not see a book, she would pester and pester Kai until she found out what happened to the money. She might be able to borrow from her friends, but her friends who knew about Storm were also saving up for the concert, and those who were not interested were saving for the class book. She tried asking her cousins for a loan. One said she would help…until her mother caught her on the phone and stopped the transaction.

That was the last straw. The only way she was going to see Storm in person was to go next door and stare at his nearest lookalike. She just wished he could sing like him, too.

She dragged her feet to the neighbor’s house, and sullenly asked if he was home. He was, and she was let in. Being the regular visitor that she already was, she made it her privilege to slump on his sofa and sulk.

Bob came in from a shower, his hair still damp and tousled all over his head. His chest was hidden under a dark shirt and a long towel – such a shame, she thought.

“Why the long face?” he asked as he rubbed his hair. He walked past her, though, into the kitchen.

Kai sighed. “He’s going to have his first big concert. Just him, no side acts, no special guests. Just him.” She wailed. “But I don’t have money for tickets! Not even enough for the farthest seats.” She sighed again.

“Whose concert are we talking about?”

“Storm. He’ll have a major concert.”

“I’M having a concert? Wait…OH…THAT one…But there are discounts, or promos, right?” he asked as he placed a glass of iced tea in front of her. “At least, I made sure of that…”

“Oh, sure. But it’s a one-in-a-million chance that I’ll ever be picked for those things,” she sulked. She took up the glass and drank deeply.

He shook his head and shrugged. “You’re impossible.” But he was smiling a wide smile at her. “Will it make you happier if I get you front-row tickets?”

“OF COURSE IT WILL!” Her eyes lit up. Then she sulked again. “But I can’t make you do that! FRONT-ROW tickets? You’re crazy! Those are EXPENSIVE!”

“Only because the manager makes it that way,” he said. “I’ll talk to Sir Horacio to give me two front-row tickets. For you and a friend.”

“You won’t go with me?”

“Silly, I’ll be on stage!”

She raised an eyebrow. “There you go again with the Storm impersonations,” she laughed.

“You STILL don’t believe me.” He scratched his head.

“And I can’t believe you’re still doing that to me. The joke’s getting stale, Bob, stop already.”

He grinned.

“But where ARE you really going that night? I’m serious. I was hoping you could go with me to the concert. All my other friends are busy then, or they’re not interested.”

“I’ll make a deal with you. I won’t be with you at the concert, but I WILL get your tickets. Will that be fine?”

“But I can’t make you do that!”

He smiled. “I insist.”

“For real?”

He nodded.

So he was serious. She was going to get tickets to the concert. She was going to the concert. She was going to see Storm, she really was, she really was, at last! With front-row seats! “If you do that for me, it will be so awesome of you, I’ll remember you forever, I’ll do anything for you!”

“Just make sure there are two family-size pizza boxes here when we get back, and we’re even.”

“Two BOXES?! But that’s…” she calculated quickly in her head. That could reach up to a thousand pesos…

“Do you want those tickets or not?”

She sighed. “Two boxes it is.” A small price to pay for the chance of a lifetime. It would be a little easier to cajole her mother into giving her money for treating Bob to pizza. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“Two pizza boxes,” he reminded.

“Yes…yes…”

“Remember to look straight at me when I sing the last song,” he crooned.

“WILL YOU STOP THAT?!” she screamed.

He laughed long and loud as he punched out a message on his cellular phone. He kept laughing as he sat at the other end of the sofa and pressed on the television remote. By then the afternoon soap operas and the old movies were on, and he aimlessly surfed through the channels for a few moments. He stopped at one of the music channels, which was currently playing local songs. He slouched further into the sofa, and put down the remote.

She watched the television for a while and ignored him…or tried to ignore him. It was hard to not think about Bob sitting just a few feet away from her, with his smooth hair still tousled and messy in a good way, and his white shirt revealing the nice chest underneath. It was embarrassing to even think about it. That was beside her major embarrassment in having to accept such great kindness from him about the tickets. He had always been nice to her, but she thought she did not deserve front-row tickets to the Storm concert. She did not even deserve his hospitality at such an odd time in the afternoon.

“I’m really sorry about crashing your place like this…”

But when she looked, he was already asleep, and snoring, at the other end of the sofa. She shrugged. He must have had a tiring morning.

Even when he was asleep, he was gorgeous to look at. His uncombed hair circled his face, even gentler when he was asleep than he was awake. His lashes covered his dark brown eyes. His mouth was slightly open, as if ready to either sing or take a kiss. She wondered if her favorite singer looked like this as well, without all the makeup and fancy clothes. But her thoughts quickly went back to Bob, and how nice he looked while asleep. But how exhausted he looked, too! Poor guy. When was the last time he had a decent vacation, or at least a real weekend?

He stirred a bit, and his eyes opened. “I’m sorry. I think I fell asleep…”

“Nah, that’s okay. I’ll leave now, so you can take a nap.”

“No, stay, stay,” he said. “I have no one to have dinner with…” and his eyes drooped again.

This gave her an idea, and she shook him fully awake. “Tell you what. I’ll start to pay back the tickets. I’ll leave now, and I’ll make dinner. You can eat at our place tonight. Bring Candy along if she’s around by then. How’s that?”

He smiled. “Splendid.” His head fell back on the back of the sofa, and his eyes slowly closed. “Splendid…” he was asleep again.

She smiled, and turned off the television. “I’ll call when dinner’s ready.”

She went home with a hop and a skip. Finally she would be able to do a little something for him.

She scrounged the refrigerator, and found two newly-bought packets of chicken drumsticks. Her mother had such great timing. It was just a matter of marinating and seasoning and frying. And cooking some sauce for the pack of spaghetti noodles she found lying around the kitchen. And cooking the rice. It would take some work, but it would be rather easy. Her mother gave her full rein, wondering what miraculous thing came over Kai – someone who did not exactly like cooking – to offer to make dinner.

“Um, I invited Bob for some home-cooked dinner,” Kai explained, her face red and her cheeks very warm. “Do you mind?”

“Yes, I do mind. You didn’t tell me,” her mother said, but with a smile. “Add a little more soy sauce to that bowl, Kai.”

Kai was ready by 7:00pm. The chicken was a little too fried in some places, and the spaghetti was somewhat undercooked. But they were edible, and they were presentable. She still found it hard to believe that Bob did not have anything planned for that evening. She was worried that he was planning to skip an event or a photo shoot.

She ran up to her room to peer at the living room next door. Oddly, he was still there as she left him, sleeping on the sofa. She called using her cellular phone, knowing that he often kept his own in a pocket. He stirred, and drowsily picked up the call.

“Dinner’s ready!” she said, and waved from the second floor window.

“Dinner?”

“I said I’ll be cooking dinner, don’t you remember?”

“No,” he yawned.

She slapped her forehead for being such a dummy. “Whatever, just come by to my house. We have dinner here.”

“Candy’s coming over…” he yawned again.

“Tell her you’ll be next door, and she’s invited, too.” It would be Kai’s peace offering to Candy, hopefully.

But as soon as Kai ended the call, she saw his cellular phone drop to the floor, and he fell asleep again.

“ARGH!”

She marched out to his house. The chicken was getting warm, and the spaghetti was getting soggy. NO way would she allow this dinner to turn ugly.

She was let in, and she easily went to the living room to shake him fully awake. She grabbed him by the shoulders, still musing to herself that she was half-crazy doing this. She was face to face with him, and her torso was inches away from his own, in her earnestness to get him to sit up and pay attention to her.

It was in this position that Candy found Kai and Bob on the sofa, a very awkward position. Kai looked at her, looked down at him. She suddenly realized that it probably did not look good. Seeing Candy made Bob suddenly sit up, and Kai fell to the floor. “Oh, SORRY!” He was now fully awake.

Candy glared at him with piercing eyes. In her hands were two small pieces of cardboard. “Bob…” She threw down the cardboard onto the coffee table. Kai peered down at the pieces of cardboard. They were two tickets to the Storm concert. Two…front-row tickets. Kai looked at Candy with a dropped jaw.

In Bob’s hands were a few paper bills. “Candy…” he glared back with dancing eyes. He placed the bills in her open palm.

“I want a raise,” Candy placed her hands over her hips.

“Talk to Sir Horacio,” he said.

“OH, I will. I’ll tell him you’ve been fooling with HER.”

“CANDY! It’s not what you think…”

“I want a raise.”

“But Candy…”

“YOU’RE the talent. I want a raise.”

He laughed. “I’ll talk to him.” Then he patted her shoulder. “Kai offered to make dinner. Want some?”

Candy raised an eyebrow and glared at Kai.

Kai blushed. “Just fried chicken. That’s something I know I can cook.”

Bob had his hands together, begging Candy to indulge him. Candy scratched her head, looked at Bob and Kai, then scratched her head again. She placed her hands on her hips once more.

“I want a raise,” she told Bob. “I hope you cook good chicken,” she told Kai. Then she led the way out the door.

Bob yanked Kai by the hand and followed after Candy.

Kai introduced Candy and Bob to her mother, and then led them to the dining room, where a spread of rice, chicken, spaghetti, and salad on a circular narra table awaited them. They found places around the table, and uncomfortably began to help themselves.

Kai’s mother was a typical mother on the dining room table when friends were around. She kept asking if the two friends wanted more chicken, rice, or juice, telling them not to be shy about asking for more. She gently pried about how Kai knew them, what their jobs were, where they studied in college, and if they by any chance their parents knew anyone that Kai’s mother knew.

“I don’t know,” Bob answered. “We’re both from the province. Candy just went to college here, that’s why she knows her way around.”

Kai then bragged about her friend being with the music industry. Bob in turn, to smoothen ruffled feathers, told Kai and her mother that Candy set his appointments for him, and kept him updated with new developments and schedules.

“I don’t know where I would be without her,” Bob admitted. Candy smirked with pride.

Kai looked down at her food with a sigh. Suddenly the chicken did not taste as good to her.

“But my friendship with Kai has been a welcome addition to me,” Bob quickly added.

The conversation around the table was friendly and light. Kai managed to find out that Candy was into reading fanfiction in her spare time. Candy had also been a fangirl in her time, just in a different fandom, so she knew about going all out for a favorite person – currently it was Adrian Lariosa that she was nuts about, and so desperately wanted to meet. Fortunately Kai knew a lot about Adrian Lariosa from her non-Storm friends, and they jointly admired his great acting and his incredible physique. She forgave Candy for a lot of things that night.

Kai escorted her two friends out the door after some more conversation at the table about the music industry and piracy. It was a lively debate, the kind that made voices rise but friendships closer for the added knowledge. Kai realized that Candy was fiery, because in her line of work, she had to be.

“Thanks for dinner,” Bob said, patting her shoulder and following after Candy. “It’s a change from all the restaurant food.”

“You’re welcome,” Kai answered.

“But I still want those pizzas,” he reminded.

“BOB!” she screeched.

Chapter 8

Kai offered her spare ticket to the fangirl friend she met in school. She managed to see her walking through the great hall of the Arts and Sciences building over the general lunch break. The friend just stared at the piece of cardboard, in supreme disbelief.

“How…how…how did you get it?” Suzie managed to blurt out.

“A friend of mine…he’s with the record company,” Kai explained.

Suzie stared again at the ticket in her hand. “So, where do we meet?”

“Let’s meet at the entrance,” Kai said, relieved to be seeing at least one familiar face at the concert.

Kai found it hard to sleep on the night before the concert. She found it impossible to focus on her classes. She ruined all her quizzes on that day.

I’m going to see Storm! I’m going to see Storm! For real!

She met her fellow fan friend at a fastfood restaurant across the street from the Araneta Coliseum. Suzie was already there, eating a burger and fries when she came.

"I still can't believe it," Suzie said as she sat down. "Front-row tickets!"

"Same here," Kai replied.

"You're lucky to have that friend. An industry insider...and a Storm clone to boot."

Kai thought so, too.

She was still on air as she proudly walked to the line where front-row tickets were being accepted, the shortest line among the tortuous ones immediately outside the entertainment center. She wanted to shout to all the dreamy fangirls in the longer lines, some of them her school friends, some of them recognized online fangirl members: "I have something you don't!" But that was not in her nature. She wanted to remain the secret but secretly famous fanwriter the Kaiser.

Suzie had a knowing smile to her, too, like she wanted to yell out that she was with the Kaiser and they had front-row tickets everyone else in their circle did not have. But they were much the same: two shy girls who liked keeping their secrets, two ninjas who knew they were powerful but did not want to show it. One of the several reasons why they got along.

She stopped in front of the large poster at the ticket gates, without noticing that she did. She really wished she would see Bob in such a cool getup someday…Bob would be quite the heartbreaker if he did. Kai chuckled to herself, thinking at how close to Storm her new neighbor Bob really looked. They could really be twins separated at birth. She was really sorry he couldn’t come. They could not have a pointless argument about it over coffee and donuts.

They found their way to the front row of the center file of seats. Kai and Suzie had their jaws open at how close they were to the stage. They could actually see the drum set, the decorations, the stage crew running here and there for final preparations. They were going to see the band, and Storm, for real. Not from a projected image on a large white sheet. They were really going to see him. They were more than excited.

The arena was soon filled with people. Kai looked behind her, and thought she saw several fanclub members that she knew personally. She found it hard to believe that some of the richer fangirls had decided to stay in the middle or even the back rows. She glanced at the people beside her. They were mostly rich girls, too, but while many had Kai’s own fangirl-crazy eyes, some had that glazed-over look, the look of pride of being rich enough to pay for expensive tickets.

The arena lights went out. The girls began to call out for Storm.

The concert was starting.

They started with the introduction to the fastest song in the repertoire. Spotlights were shown on the band members, one at a time. The music rose in intensity and volume, as the screams of the audience rose in intensity and volume.

Finally a solitary spotlight was shown at one end of the stage, and he came out.

His hair was smoothed back with a generous amount of gel. The trademark parting of the hair in a curving line was emphasized. He was wearing a comfortable but very stylish blue shirt. A new electric guitar was hung over his shoulders. He waved to the audience, grabbed the microphone, and started singing the opening lines.

Kai had been right all along. The photos did not do him justice. Those tight arms really existed. That smooth face was true. And she still could not believe that she was staring at his hair, his face, and his arms from that close.

He was even better to listen to live than in a recording. There was something truer to his voice when it was real and amplified. It was a wonderful feeling to know that Kai’s favorite singer, was, indeed, a wonderful singer, that it was not the work of computers and machines, how great he sounded.

Like any good fangirl, she managed to get a list of the songs for the concert ahead of time, online. One of the members of the organizing committee leaked it out, and Storm’s manager did not react, so the hardcore fangirls all had a printout. But even if they knew each and every song on the lineup, everyone was happily surprised at what was done for each song. A slow song was given an upbeat treatment, a fast song was done acoustically. The most favorite songs were still sung the usual way, but it was not every day that they heard the songs with a full orchestra playing.

Kai thought she was imagining things, but it seemed that Storm kept looking at the area of the arena where she was. It even seemed like Storm was looking at HER, personally. She brushed away the thought. Nearly everyone was probably thinking the same thing. She knew Suzie was thinking the same thoughts, from the way Suzie kept staring back at Storm with her mouth open.

Time seemed both to stand still and to move too quickly. Sooner than she wanted, they were at the last few songs of the concert.

Storm came forward, and addressed the crowd. “Thank you all for coming.” His eyes first swept through the topmost and farthest seats. “I know a lot of you had saved your allowances and paychecks just to be here.” He moved his eyes across the lower levels. “I know some of you begged for the chance to be here. I am grateful that you think so much of me.” Finally his eyes went to the front rows. “I don’t deserve any of it.”

His eyes stopped at the very front row, and at Kai. Now she was sure he was looking at her, and just at her. Their eyes met, and he kept those eyes fixed on her. He kept looking at her, until she did not know if she would melt. “I don’t know what you know about me, but I am just an ordinary guy, with ordinary hopes and dreams. Just given an extraordinary chance to make them come true.”

She returned his hypnotic gaze. She did not know what to read in them. Sadness, joy, or both. But those eyes were deep, and beautiful. They wanted to say many things to her, things she did not understand, but things that she wanted to know.

The artist kept gazing at her as he went nearer to the end of the stage, and walked down a set of steps.

The drumsticks clicked one, two, three, four, then the electric guitars came in one by one, followed by the electric piano.

Storm continued to walk down the steps, until he reached the level of the crowd, and stood in front of the ringside audience. The first two rows of spectators began to scream.

He’s just a few feet away from me. Kai’s brain was beginning to shut down. All other thoughts had been forgotten. Her eyes focused on his every movement. He’s coming closer…and closer!

He walked to the first row of seats, and stopped. In front of her.

Kai could not believe her eyes. He was standing in front of her. He was bringing a microphone to his lips. He opened his mouth.

He began to sing.

I never knew until I met you

How much I must have missed

I never thought until I saw you

There was anything I wished

But here I am and hoping

That you would listen to this tune

But I really should be starting

To sing this song…and soon…

Storm held out a hand, and smiled at Kai. Without really knowing or feeling, she held out her own hand, and placed it in his. He gave a little tug, as if telling her to follow him. Under his spell, she kept looking at him, ducked under the guardrails, and stood in front of him.

Look at me.

Forget what you might think of you

Look and see

Feel what I think is true

You say that you’re not special

That I am wrong about this

But please, just listen when I say

I love you.

He made some sort of signal to the band, because they kept playing the music of the song, without waiting for him to sing again. Storm led her up the steps that he came down from. She was still hypnotized and walking up the steps, until she was standing on stage with him.

It was an unusual feeling. She knew everything that was happening to her. She felt his hand, warm inside her own. She felt the heat of the stage lights on her skin. She heard his voice a few inches away from her. And yet she was powerless. She was just following his cues and his steps. She was not sure where she was, she was not exactly sure who she was with. But her eyes recorded each and every second, without mental processing on her part.

He sang one more verse of the song as he continued to cast his spell on her. He walked with her across the stage, with one hand holding her own, and his other hand holding the wireless microphone.

He stopped near one corner of the wide stage. The spotlight shone on them there. He placed the microphone to his side, then he spoke.

“Kai.”

Her head snapped up and the spell was broken temporarily. How did he know her name?

But while in her state of shock, he said one thing more. “Please listen.”

He brought the microphone up again.

Look at me.

Forget what you might think of you

Look and see

Feel what I think is true

You say that you’re not special

That I am wrong about this

But please, just listen when I say

I love you.

Kai was given the token celebrity kiss on the cheek for the fan after that. But Kai felt something more about that kiss, something…different. She could not explain what it was. But it was different.

She was escorted down the steps and back to her place in the audience by one of the crew. Her feet felt numb, like they were walking on clouds. After all, she was still on Cloud 9.

He sang one final song to the whole crowd after that. While singing the song he walked to both ends of the stage and waved at the crowd. He went down the stage once again and crossed the long center aisle, waving and singing and smiling. It had the effect wanted out of the crowd. All the girls in the audience were either screaming their hearts out or staring blankly at him as he passed.

But as he passed by the front row again, he passed just in front of Kai. He gave her such a bright and mischievous smile, like he knew a big secret about her. She did not understand it, but she was more than happy he looked at her again.

She was going to blog about that. She was going to rant about it in the official forums. She would. She really would.

The concert was over.

People called for encores, kept calling and calling, but he did not reappear, much to the disappointment of all the fans. When they realized that no encore was going to happen, they shrugged it off. The program had been set, and an encore was not part of it. That was all. They started to file out of the arena. Someone said that Storm was supposed to come out to greet the fans after the show, but he never appeared. Most of the fans shrugged this off as well, satisfied with just being at the concert at all, but several others who had backstage passes were sorely disappointed.

Kai ran into one of the girls with the backstage pass, one of the more famous online fanclub members. The friend was frowning. "No autograph. Such a shame."

"What happened?"

"Some of the stage crew told me that Storm collapsed as soon as he got offstage."

"Oh, no!"

"Yeah, I know, and he hasn't come around yet. Poor guy..."

"Is there anyone there with him?"

"All these concert-type things have a medical staff around, and I think the manager arranged to have a doctor here, so I think he'll be fine. Although..." the fanclub friend wailed, "I STILL don't get an autograph!"

Kai understood the irony of the situation, and wished her friend well. Being in the fanclub long enough, she knew that a short personal email to Storm through the official website would give the fan friend a nice autographed picture, eventually.

She also remembered that Bob was supposed to be helping out in the concert somewhere. She hoped that HE had not tired himself to death as well.

Suzie and Kai parted ways at the fast food restaurant again, where Suzie's parents came to fetch her in a car. Kai remembered that she had promised to have pizza ready at Bob's house, so she called the pizza place from there.

As soon as she left the fast food restaurant, she found a car waiting for her. The back window of the car rolled down, and Kai saw Candy’s head peer out of it. Kai looked in and saw Bob beside her, looking half-dead from exhaustion.

“Need a lift?” Candy asked, flatly.

“Thanks, but I can get a bus home…”

“At this hour? Tough luck, even I know that,” Candy said. “Hop in. He made me promise to find you and take you home, before he passed out. As you can see.”

“Passed out?” Kai opened the car door and anxiously looked at him. Without thinking about what she was doing, she had gotten into the car, scooted up and over the girl, and sat beside him, looking him over, seeing if he was alright. “Candy, just what had he been doing?”

“OH, I don’t know,” Candy rolled her eyes. “Maybe a two-hour solo concert under floodlights?”

“Seriously?” Kai tsk-tsked. “I never realized being stage crew was such hard work!”

Candy stared at her incredulously. “Stage crew? Stage crew!” She shook her head. “You’re blind, Kai. A clueless guy falling for a blind girl. Figures. Just figures.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kai glared at her.

Now Candy shouted. “Have you been this dense for this long? Do I need to spell it out to you?”

“You’re just being an overprotective cousin,” Kai shot back.

“And you’re putting on a bad act!” Candy replied. “Stop acting like a clueless girl who wants to give a big star a normal life. Because you can’t, and you won’t. I won’t have you tricking him anymore.”

“Tricking him? You’re out of your mind!”

“And you think you’re doing him a favor. You’re not.”

Candy looked out the window. Kai looked straight at the road in front. Both stayed silent.

The car drove on home.

They maintained that terrible silence until they reached the house.

Kai did not understand why Candy was being so sarcastic with her. She was just being nice to Bob, that’s all, nothing more and nothing less. She was truly concerned about him. So what did Candy know that she did not seem to know? What was she missing? She liked Bob, no question about that. It helped a lot that Bob looked like her idol, but she liked him for himself now. Was Candy jealous of her? Was that it?

The car drove into the garage. Kai woke up Bob, and they got out of the car. He leaned on her. Candy tossed her head as she closed the car door. The car left the garage again, to take Candy back to her own house, while Kai and Bob entered his own.

She had made arrangements for two family-sized pizzas to be delivered to Bob’s house around midnight, the earliest she figured she would be home from the concert. Thankfully the pizza store was open until then and was willing to deliver that late. She was happy to see the two boxes, two liters of soft drinks, glasses, plates and tissues prepared by the househelp when they arrived at 1am.

Just the sight of that spread make him perk up, the way Kai was used to see him. He ran to the coffee table and opened both boxes at once.

Kai soon noticed that there was no one else besides the two of them. “Two family-sized pizzas? There’s only two of us!”

“Relax! You’re not eating all that!” he said.

Bob divided up one of the pizzas. He placed several slices on a plate, then gave them to the househelp, another plate to the security guard, and another plate to his driver. He then opened the other box and helped himself to the largest slice of pizza.

“That’s so nice of you,” Kai noted and took up a slice for herself.

“Life would be unbearable here if not for them, so I return the favor once in a while.”

They talked about the concert while they slowly finished the slices of pizza. Kai tried to relive every moment, from the grand entrance to the memorable speech toward the end. Finally she discussed how she still could not believe what Storm did in just looking at her for a long time while he sang, then came down, brought her on stage, and just sang to her.

It was only after she ranted and ranted, and only after two slices of pizza were left, that she noticed Bob was looking straight at her, silent and thinking.

“Bob? Did I say something wrong?”

He did not answer. He kept looking at her.

“Am I boring you with all this? I’m sorry. I guess this is just my way of thanking you for the tickets. It gave me the chance to meet him up close.”

He still did not answer.

He stood up, went to the bedroom, and returned with the old acoustic guitar that she had seen from the second floor window. He sat down again on the sofa and positioned the guitar in front of him.

“Hey, I want you to listen to this song I’m making…” He started to strum the guitar. “I made it this morning. I’m not sure if it’s any good, though.”

She sat on the floor, and crossed her legs. “Let’s hear it.”

He strummed the guitar slowly and carefully, his fingers moving deftly across the strings. He started with a few chords in a minor key then shifted to a major key.

“This song is dedicated to Kai, my biggest fan, who doesn’t believe me.”

He began to sing.

He sang a sad but hopeful song, in the slightly deep, ethereal voice she had heard before…

….on the radio…on her mp3 playlist…on her CD…and at the concert.

She could not speak. Bob sounded EXACTLY the way her idol had sounded on that memorable concert, except that there were no microphones and amplifiers now. It was the very same strumming, the very same bend of the head, the same deep and beautiful eyes looking at her and at her soul. It was EXACTLY the same smooth and crooning voice that made thousands of women swoon and devote their waking hours to him.

“No…way…no…way…” she stammered, the words only forming in her lips but not coming out as sounds.

He continued to play the guitar, and to sing. He looked up at her once in a while, with the same focused stare that were directed at her, just a few hours ago. The stare that made her forget the room around her, and just look back at him. She was feeling it again, as her heart beat so violently that she felt each and every knock it made at her chest.

Her brain could not reconcile the fact…even if it was staring her in the face…that the object of her obsession, and the next-door neighbor, were one and the same.

He played the last few bars of music, ended with a gentle stroke of all the five strings, then looked at her. “Well?”

She could not answer.

He laughed. “You can close your mouth now.”

She felt her jaw, and noticed that it was lower than she wanted it to be. She held her jaw with both hands and raised it to align with her skull.

“So how was the song?” he asked again.

“A…A…Ah…You’re…You’re…”

“What?” he asked. “The song’s no good?”

It had finally sunk in with Kai.

“Storm.”

He sighed. “I’ve told you countless times.”

She stammered. “So you weren’t joking at all, that first day we met?”

“No.”

“You ARE him?”

“Yes.”

She paled. “And Candy is….”

“My personal assistant and press relations officer.”

She paled even more. “And Sir Horacio is…”

“My manager.”

Her hand shook as she pointed a finger at him. “You were the one at Araneta Coliseum, when you said you wouldn’t be home and could I please keep an eye on your house? Wearing that orange shirt?”

“Yes.”

She was getting dizzy, and his face was starting to blur. “And that song you sang to me…”

“We recorded it this morning, it should be playing on the radio next month.”

NOW, she fainted.

Chapter 9

When she woke up, it was early morning, and the sun through the living room windows was warming her up. A small towel was on her forehead. She opened her eyes to find him looking at her. He had dark spots under his eyes.

“You look terrible,” she droned. “Storm never looks terrible…”

“Concealer. It’s a great thing, both on girls and guys,” he said.

Her brain was still finding it hard to register the new information. She had met Storm, in person. She had seen him too many times already. She had been treated to too many donuts by him. She treated HIM to home-cooked dinner. They had talked together like good friends, like normal people. She knew him, and he knew her as a real human being.

She knew his address and his cellular phone number. She had been inside his house, and even inside his room. She realized that she was now one of the ultimate fans, if not THE ultimate fan. She just did not know it.

“It was my biggest dream in life to meet him in person, to shake his hand, to tell him I’m his biggest fan,” she sighed. “I more than got that chance, and I didn’t want to believe it…until too late.”

“Hmm.” He smiled, and said nothing more.

“You know, all this wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t answer the gate that first time,” she said. “Why did you?”

He shrugged. “Just felt like it, I guess. And I WAS wondering when your taho vendor here would pass by.”

She was feeling faint again. So the rumors about the taho were true. She should have been suspicious, all the times he dropped everything he did when the taho man was heard singing out.

Her cellular phone rang and vibrated. When she picked up, she heard her mother’s panicked and shrieking voice. “Kai! I’ve been calling you over and over! I’ve been to all the nearest hospitals! I’ve called all your friends! Where are you?”

“Ma?” she replied in a tired and husky voice. She was still a little dizzy, and the fact that Bob, Storm, Bob….whatever, a sweet good-looking guy was sitting right next to her, and the fact was not helping. “I’m next door. Um, Bob is here.”

“ALL NIGHT?!” her mother shrieked. “WHAT DID YOU DO, KAI?”

“Nothing, mother, nothing!” she answered. “I just fainted, that’s all. Sorry for worrying you so much.”

“I’m coming over, and if that boy did ANYTHING to you…”

“He did nothing, mother!”

He took the cellular phone from her. “Mrs. Santos? Robert Sarmiento. Yes, ma’am, your daughter is fine. She fainted while she was here last night. No, ma’am, we were not drinking.” He laughed. “Come by next door, and you can grill me here, ma’am. Yes, ma’am. See you in a few minutes.” He ended the call, and burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Why does everyone think I’m a playboy?” he kept laughing. “I’ve never had a real girlfriend!”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” He helped her sit up on the sofa. “Back in high school I was a nerd. In college it was much the same. Right now, there’s Sir Horacio to stop me. Besides, how COULD you find a girl when you have to work or when paparazzi keep chasing after you?”

That the artist known as Storm was a nerd: it was NOT a fact she would find out any other way.

But it did make her wonder. What made him give her all of that information in the first place? He knew she could tell the gossip magazines about it. At the least, she could spread the information to her fan community.

“You’re thinking: Why did I let you know me?”

Kai nodded.

He shrugged. “No reason.” He smiled at her. “I wanted to be nice to the next-door neighbor, that’s all.”

“But…but…”

“And you didn’t look like someone who would squeal on me. See? I was right.”

Kai shook his head at him with a smile. “You’re nuts.”

“I know.”

“It’s not that simple, Bob! What if I were a reporter for the magazines? Well?”

“Then Sir Horacio would get rid of you.”

“Not only are you crazy. You’re naïve!” Kai wailed. Then she stopped. “And so am I. Candy was right.”

“Right about what?” He clenched his teeth and held his chest.

“I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Nah, that’s okay. Celebrity status evidently makes people see different things.” He held his heart and forced a smile as he sat back on the sofa. “But, you’re okay now?”

“Yeah, I guess…”

“That’s good…” He sunk into the sofa, and closed his eyes. Once again, he had that half-dead look to him.

She sighed at herself. She suddenly realized that he had forced himself to stay awake since they got back, for her sake. Her idol, the object of her dreams and stories, had done that for insignificant Kai. Because she was Kai, and Kai was Bob’s friend.

She still found it hard to believe.

………………………………………..

Kai’s mother did not come over to Bob’s house. Kai herself went to her house and personally received the grilling her mother had prepared for her for staying next door overnight without telling her mother. Kai was in no mood to contradict her; and besides, there was nothing to contradict. Her mother was right to yell at her. She was wrong not to contact.

But all her good sense had left her after the concert, from the daze she felt after that surreal experience of being on stage with Storm, from finding Bob unconscious again, from having a wonderful evening eating pizza with Bob, to finding out that she had been on stage with the next-door neighbor. Kai wondered why she had not made that crucial connection, after all that time. Was she stupid? Was she dense? Was she blind, after all, like Candy said? Was she too obsessed with the persona, that she never noticed the person?

It was a weekend. She swore on everything she could swear by that only eating, singing, and sleeping – apart – were done. She politely asked permission to go back next door and check on him. She explained that he was a bit sick after what happened yesterday – exactly what happened, she did not bother to explain. Her mother shrugged, but agreed, handing her a packet of fever tablets to give the neighbor.

It was past noon when he finally woke up.

“Here.” She handed him a cup of fresh, warm taho. In her hands she had another plastic cup. “The vendor just passed.”

“Thanks.”

“And breakfast…erm, lunch…I found a few cans of corned beef and where you stock the rice…”

“Thanks.”

A car horn was heard just outside the gate, and that car was allowed into the house. Kai looked out the living room windows, and saw it was Candy’s car. Candy was with the manager. Kai gulped, as she placed her plate in the sink.

It was the PR manager that was first inside the house.

“Candy.” Kai bowed her head. “Sorry about last night.”

The PR manager shook her head. “No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I was tired. You didn’t deserve that.” Then she placed her hands on her hips. “No. I’m sorry. You DID deserve that.”

Kai had made plans to forgive her. But her last statement made her battle-ready. And she blurted out the first thing she could think of against Candy. "If YOU'RE Storm's PR manager, why are you so head-over-heels over Adrian Lariosa?"

"Why? Is it illegal?" Candy tossed her head.

"But you're supposed to be the best proponent of your product!"

"Oh, SURE, I love my product! But I can't think just about Bob all day, can I? Besides, Adrian--" and this she drawled out, rather too lovingly "--Adrian isn't a singer, so he's not direct competition to my product."

The girl had a point. "Well...well...why didn't you tell me? A…A…about HIM?"

"Look. I've been TRYING to tell you. Did you listen?"

She sighed. "Why didn't you just tell me flat out?"

Candy pointed at the said talent, her product. " 'Crazy fangirl, the man before you IS the guy of your dreams. Yes, it's this bumbling, four-eyed, clueless geek in front of you.' WOULD you have listened?"

Bob intervened. "Now, Candy, take it easy..."

"And YOU!" the girl faced him. "YOU kept playing her for a fool! You liked teasing her, and not telling her who you REALLY are! She deserved better, 'insan, she deserved better!"

"But...Candy..."

"You've seen her all these weeks. She liked you for YOU. Your geeky, four-eyed self. You were scared that she might just like the poster boy I've made you to be. But didn't you think she would like the four-eyes AND the poster boy?"

It stopped him from saying anything more.

Candy then frowned at Kai's direction. "Well? That's what you're thinking right now, isn't it?"

Kai did not reply. But Candy was right.

"Seriously, Candy, on whose side are you on?" Bob had to ask.

"Neither. You BOTH are pathetic!"

Candy stepped back as Sir Horacio came charging in with a huff and puff, straight at Bob.

“WHAT did you do? WHAT is this that I read in the papers this morning?” The middle-aged man was furiously waving the entertainment section of a leading newspaper over his face.

“Huh?” he innocently looked up from his plastic cup full of taho.

The manager threw the paper at him. “There. Read it!”

“Read what?”

“One day, ONE DAY, I swear I will leak out how CLUELESS you are to all those crazy fans of yours!” The manager shouted.

Bob calmly took the paper and spread it open. Then he stared at one page and almost dropped his cup of taho. “How could they even THINK like that?”

“That’s the industry for you,” Sir Horacio sighed. “If not for me, you probably have made stupider mistakes before this.”

“But you were at the concert yesterday, and you saw Kai on stage…”

“Yes, I was about to whack you on the head when you got offstage after that…but all the crew got to you ahead of me…WHY did you bring the girl on stage in the first place, you idiot?!”

“But, sir!...”

As the two men argued, Kai took the newspaper from them and looked at what they were fighting about. It was still open at the page that made Bob drop the paper, so she scanned it.

Her hands shook.

The largest picture on that page was of Storm during the big concert…holding hands with HER.

That was not all. The headline read: IS THIS A SETUP?

The management had been accused of planting Kai in the crowd, for Storm to bring onstage. That none of the other girls had the least chance of going up on stage, even if the management had promised it in the promos. That Kai…was his non-showbiz girlfriend, and that they were getting it on.

“GETTING IT ON?!” Kai dropped the paper to the floor.

“Did you?” the manager asked, point-blank.

“NO!” Both of them said.

The worst she had done was feed him dinner and pizza. Getting it on was only one of her remote dreams. Getting it on was not even in his vocabulary, she found out from knowing him for a month.

Sir Horacio marched up to Kai, making her sit back on the sofa. “Are you connected to any of the newspapers or magazines?”

“No, sir! I swear!”

“One of those radio stations, then?”

“No, sir!”

“Cut it out, Sir Horacio, she’s telling the truth!” Bob interrupted.

Horacio took out a checkbook. “How much do you want?”

“What?” Kai’s jaw dropped.

“How much? Just keep quiet to your friends at school who know you. Don’t show your face on TV. That’s all I want you to do. Now, how much?”

She looked at Bob, then tossed her head at the manager. “No need to bribe me, sir,” she glared. “Of course, I’ll keep quiet and let you smarter people handle it.” Emphasis on the ‘smarter’. “You have my word.”

“Fine, then.” Horacio faced Bob. “Get dressed. We have a press conference to do.”

Kai took her cue. She left them, and went back to her house, shell-shocked.

She immediately went to her room, and flopped into bed. She took up her cellular phone, and dialed the only person she knew would understand.

"Denise?"

"Yeah?" came her friend's voice on the other line.

"Do you know Gerard?"

"Well, sure..."

"Do you KNOW Gerard?"

"What are you getting at, Kai?"

She began to sob. "I thought I knew him. I thought I understood him. I thought I could relate."

"Kai? What happened?"

"I was fooling myself. I didn't know a thing. I didn't know a thing."

"Kai?"

She looked at her walls, covered by the pictures of her favorite singer. She looked down her window to the house beside hers. The living room was now empty. She started to cry in earnest.

Did she actually know, at the back of her head? Was she just lying to herself? Was she just toying with him? No, NO! She wasn't! She really did like him! She really was interested in him! But why? Because he looked like him? Was that all?

She must have sobbed herself to sleep after that. She did not remember ending the call. She just barely remembered Denise talking in a tingly mechanical voice in her ear for some time. But when she became aware of her world again, it was early morning, the roosters were crowing, and the pandesal man was passing on his bicycle, honking his horn.

Chapter 10

Bob sent a text message that the press conference would be aired by the major television stations during the showbiz segment of the early evening news. She watched the press conference during the airing, like almost everyone else.

She was nervous, not exactly about herself, even if she did realize that paparazzi could very easily swarm her house and ask her questions. She actually wondered why they had not swarmed the house already. She was worried about him, and what impact that mistake could have cost his career. She watched on the sofa in front of the television, as she hugged a throw pillow for support.

The showbiz anchor gave the rundown of the day’s events, who got eliminated out of the talent-search contest during the weekend, who was having press conferences for an upcoming movie. Finally the showbiz anchor reported about the girl who went up to the stage with Storm during his concert. They then showed the pictures Kai had seen earlier in the newspaper.

The video of the press conference was shown afterward. Kai watched as Storm entered the pressroom, flanked front and back by two bodyguards, and guarded left and right by Candy and Sir Horacio. As soon as he entered, the cameras flashed in close succession, filling the room with lights, like very large fireflies surrounding an object. Furry microphones were brought closer, and the reports squeezed in tighter, as Storm sat in the middle of a long table.

Even in a stressful situation he was still impeccably dressed. He was in a crisp white shirt under a smart black suit. His mischievous eyes were hidden behind dark glasses. His hair was parted in the characteristic curved line. He was calm and composed.

He took a deep breath, and opened a folder that he had in front of him. The cameras began to flash, and the microphones inched a little closer to him.

“I have been asked to appear before you all to answer allegations raised about the concert,” he began. “About the girl I asked to come up on stage.”

He raised his head. He looked at all the microphones, digital cameras and video cameras that surrounded him. Then he closed the folder.

“She is my special friend. Her name is Kai.”

Both Sir Horacio and Candy looked at him.

At home, Kai fell off her seat and hit the floor butt first. She did not feel the pain in her bottom, out of shock at what he just said.

“Storm,” Candy hissed. “What are you doing?”

He just smiled and continued, as the cameras flashed and the microphones were pushed in closer.

“We met in rather unusual circumstances. But she was real, and genuine, from the very moment we met.” He grinned a knowing grin. “We had a few…misunderstandings…but they did not ruin the relationship.” He chuckled. “It may have even helped our relationship.”

The reporters piled the questions every journalist knew since high school: Who? What? When? Where? Why? How?

But Storm did not answer any of their questions. He continued what he was saying, as if he was not interrupted. “It was Kai who was at the right place, at the right time. That is why she is special to me. If it were some other girl who had met me in the same circumstances, I would probably have been her friend in the same way.”

Her jaw dropped. It had the perfect effect on her. She was floored and beyond flattered.

But she also knew that it had the perfect effect on all the other fangirls. He had kept that remote possibility of being special to him open, that remote possibility which kept the fangirls dreaming, hoping, and staying. As soon as she held her jaw and put it back in the right place, she smiled. He knew his fanbase.

Or he must have learned about his fanbase from her, the perfect fangirl. The smile disappeared.

“In exchange for that slight mistake, I’m offering a dinner date to one lucky member of the official fansite. Equal chance. All expenses paid. Is that a deal?”

He then gave the details of the draw. They had to register their names on the official website, only one time for each person. They did not even have to write the token short essay explaining why they liked the artist. They just had to register. It was an equal opportunity draw. A date with a full-course Italian dinner – typical of him – at one of the classiest hotels, would await the lucky winner.

Kai just laughed at all this. She actually wanted to register in the website as well. She wanted a free Italian dinner at a classy hotel, too!

She quickly called him. She did not care if the media found out.

Evidently, so did he. “Well, how was it?” he asked over the phone. Kai heard a lot of background noise over the telephone. He was still somewhere with a lot of media personalities or celebrities.

“I didn’t know you had so much business savvy in you,” she complimented.

“I don’t,” he chuckled. “I just figured you deserved to get credit where it was due.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.” He ended the call.

Same old Bob, she shook her head.

For some reason, Kai bought one copy of all the magazines that reported the press conference. She had no idea when Storm would look THAT INCREDIBLY GOOD again in a suit and shades, and she wanted the opportunity to look at it a few more times…many more times. That much had not changed. She still loved how good he looked in great clothes. He looked incredible when he wanted to, and she would always admire it in him.

Her classmates did ask about that bit of showbiz news. DID she really know Storm, personally?

There was no use denying the fact to her friends, and even to Suzie. “Yes, I’ve met him, personally. He’s a really nice guy. He does like Italian food. And he does like taho.” But she did not tell them that he lived next door to her. She promised that much to Sir Horacio, and she kept her promise.

Things had not changed much between them. He still invited Kai over to help him finish a box of donuts and a pack of iced tea. He told her that Candy was there already.

Kai obliged, but she found it odd that they just…well, ate. He did not talk. He just kept eating and stealing glances at her. Candy, too, was quietly eating a donut – very unusual for Candy.

“Bob…” Kai stopped eating her third donut. “Will you just say what it is you’ve wanted to say?”

He took a deep breath. “Okay.” He took another deep breath. “I….I have to go away for a while,” Bob said. He looked down at his glass of iced tea. “I just want to. Just for two weeks. Just to get away from all this hype.”

“Where?” Kai asked again.

“Mexico.”

“Unusual choice for a vacation. But I do agree about you going abroad…”

“Mexico, Pampanga. My grandmother lives there.”

“PAMPANGA? But that’s not abroad!”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Wanna come for the weekend? She makes such wonderful bibingka.”

“Bob…” Candy’s tone was mildly threatening.

“Aw, come on, you want her to come, too,” Bob nudged Candy on the shoulder.

“But Sir Horacio…”

“Just the weekend? We can bring her home than go back.” He begged like a little boy.

“You’re SUCH a difficult talent to handle,” Candy smiled, as she began punching out a message on the cellular phone.

“WAITAMINUTE,” Kai interrupted. “How sure are you that my mother will let me go to PAMPANGA on short notice? With just YOU?”

“She won’t?” he asked.

Candy whacked him on the head, then rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Yeah, Kai’s right.”

He cocked up his glasses. “We’ll kidnap you, then, Kai.”

“I can see it now,” Candy sneered, spreading out her arms, “Pop idol Storm arrested. Kidnapped college student confesses…”

He gulped down his glass of iced tea. “Good point.”

“But I’ll see what I can do,” Kai said.

When Kai mentioned the plan to go to Pampanga, her mother was quiet for a moment. “I won’t let you stay there for the weekend,” she said, rather sternly.

Kai accepted the decision with calm.

“But,” her mother added, “I shall let you spend the DAY there. Leave here early in the morning, then come back at night.”

Kai gave her mother a hug.

Kai was actually glad that her mother allowed her for only a Saturday. She did not have to pack a lot of things – just herself and several bags of chips to keep them busy on the way there.

They left in a van a few hours before sunrise, while there were very few cars out and the highway street lights were still on. Candy sat in front with the driver. Bob and Kai sat at the back.

She leaned on his shoulder while in the van, closing her eyes to sleep. If this had happened just a few weeks earlier, she would have tingled all over with intense excitement, getting the chance to lean on the person that filled her thoughts. Now, she was simply glad to be on a trip with someone who considered her a friend, and rested that he was worth trusting. She wrapped an arm around his.

The van reached the provincial house in good time, with the sun well up in the blue sky dotted with cotton clouds. It was a decent-sized concrete house, with two floors, and surrounded on all sides by rice fields. The wind was blowing comfortably around them as they got out. Bob went out first, and quickly went into the house.

Kai, however, stayed near the van, and tapped the PR manager on the shoulder. “Candy?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you decide to work…for your cousin?” she asked.

The reply was quick and simple. “ ‘Insan? He’s clueless.”

Figures. Then Kai asked. “And, of all the time you’ve been with him…you didn’t…you didn’t…”

“THAT?” Candy finished. “Nah. I know him too well to like him like you do.”

Kai pouted. “What does that mean?”

“You don’t fall in love with your brother.”

Kai understood. She nodded. “Candy?”

“What is it now?” the smaller young woman asked.

“Thanks for not freaking out about me.”

“OH, I did freak out. Fortunately for you, you chatted with me about Adrian Lariosa.” Candy took up a few bags as she went into the house.

Kai took her time, but she found her way into the house as well. It was a modernized provincial house. It still had a water pump at the back, and it had a dirty kitchen with a coal and wood stove. And it was generous with the windows, letting in fresh air at any hour of the day.

But the most prominent thing about the house was the living room, full of pictures of family and dotted with awards Bob had won. The walls of the living room were full of it, the trophies, medals, and framed certificates. Most of them were won in music competitions, for his prowess with an acoustic guitar even at a young age. Another set were for song composition contests.

Then she saw the reason why Bob had not been made into a star much earlier. Beside the certificates and medals, there were pictures of a shy, lanky boy, his face always hidden under thick-rimmed glasses and a mop of hair.

It had to be asked. “How did you get discovered?”

“Sir Horacio. He was the judge in one of the song composition contests. I had to sing my own piece then, because one of my other cousins backed out at the last moment.”

“Lucky break.”

“Not exactly. After I won, Candy ran after him, told him she was my manager, and promised that I could be a big star if he promised to help us.”

That was Candy, through and through, Kai mused.

“I have to tell you something, Kai,” he said.

“Okay. Fire away.”

“I’m staying here, from now on.”

Kai turned around and looked at him.

“I did tell you. I’ve already seen how far I could get. So now, I’ll disappear. Besides, even you know that I couldn’t last any longer with such a hectic schedule.”

Kai did understand. But she also realized what he was not saying. He would be staying back home. Far away from her. They would not see each other again. He did not want to say it. She did not want to hear it.

He went to a wall, and brought down one frame with a certificate in it. “When I started on this crazy adventure, I thought that reaching the top would be the best thing that could happen to me,” he said, as he touched the corners of the frame. “I was wrong.”

Kai followed his hands, as he placed the frame back with the others. It took a while before she noticed that he was looking straight at her.

“The best thing that happened to me was reaching the top, then meeting you.”

She was floored. “You’re just being nice,” she stammered.

“Seeing the top, and finding that the people at the top weren’t real – then meeting someone who WAS real. It was great.”

She was not sure what to feel, or how to answer.

“I’m sorry I tricked you,” he said.

“You didn’t. I was just very stupid…”

“But I didn’t, well, I didn’t, um, I let you go on thinking whatever it was you were thinking, about me…”

“No, no, it’s not your fault…”

“But I did like how, um, natural you were with me. The way you laughed at my corny jokes, the way you talked and talked, and let me talk. The way you didn’t just…” and he demonstrated how most fangirls just stared at his eyes, spellbound and gaga.

“Should I be thankful?” Kai was not sure.

“Yeah,” he chuckled.

He stopped talking, and looked far off into the fields in front of him, just outside the window. She looked at it, too. It was a wonderful sight, especially for a city girl: an endless field of stalks swaying in unison, dancing to the music of the wind.

“Hey, Kai,” he suddenly said. “May I?”

“May you what?” she asked.

He placed a hand on her waist, then another hand. He drew her closer to himself, and held on to her, as the afternoon winds blew around them. Kai felt his shirt, and his thumping heart, and his gentle breathing.

Then he kissed her on the forehead.

He drew back slowly and gently.

She had a few moments of confusion immediately after that.

Then she stomped on his foot.

He jumped. “OW! What was THAT for?” he asked as he rubbed his foot.

She yelled, as she felt the redness and warmth of her cheeks. “You idiot, that’s NOT the way to ask permission!”

“It isn’t?”

“No, IT ISN’T!!”

He sat on the ground, then fully lay down. Then he laughed so loud the clouds could hear his laughter.

Chapter 11

There was something about knowing someone famous personally that killed all the fangirl-ness in a person.

Maybe it was the fact that she knew that Storm was a normal person, past all the hype. The mystery that surrounded him was gone for her. Knowing the person had killed a lot of her obsession about the persona.

The online forums and blogs continued to speculate about where he was at present. Absolutely no news was being released by his management. There were no rumors either about where he could be. Many guessed that he was in the States, probably visiting relatives there that he reportedly had. Others speculated that he was in one of the Asian countries, trying to get a feel of the culture there and getting more ideas for his music. Others guessed that he was in Europe, shooting his next big album.

She rolled her eyes at them. He’s in Pampanga, eating bibingka and strumming his beat-up guitar. Her head danced at the thought. I know something all of you don’t! I know something all of you don’t! Because he’s my friend and he let me in on it! Knowledge was power. She felt the power, all right.

But she did not tell the online forums, nor texted this information to any of her fangirl friends. While one part of her wanted to tell the world, a large part of her made her stop. He deserved his privacy. He deserved some peace and quiet, and time with relatives, far away from the world that made him famous but he was not comfortable in.

It did not feel right to be squealing on a friend. So, she didn’t.

Her enthusiasm about Storm had not completely left her, however. She was still excited about the coming new song, even if it was in a rather detached way now. It was no longer the fangirl anticipation of something new to consume about the object of obsession. Rather, it was now the eager expectation of a friend wanting him to succeed, yet again.

Candy gave her word that the album launch would be held in Makati, and that they saved one of the albums for her. She also told her that the carrier single would be aired first on Saturday, 10am. Kai thanked her immensely for the information. This she spread to her fangirl friends and on the online community.

She did not let on how she knew, but she did tell them it was from a very reliable source, and they could depend on it. She let that news spread like wildfire. The more people knew about it, the more people would get the album on the first day, and more people would be listening on the radio that day. That would mean a great first day for him, and that was what she wanted.

Something of the old Storm fangirl in Kai resurfaced in the days leading to the release.

“Have you seen the new pictures, Master?” Suzie asked her. “He looks incredible! Better than ever!”

Kai took a glance at them, and she had to agree. She always knew that Storm looked incredible, but nowadays – probably because Bob was now taking better care of himself – Storm was, in a word, gorgeous. Drool-worthy.

“Whoa,” she blurted.

But she also felt a few tears welling up in her eyes. Her brain slowly changed the clothes on the man in the picture to a plain white shirt, and added glasses on his face. She remembered that gorgeous slender physique blissfully eating taho off a plastic cup with his feet up on the coffee table.

She missed him terribly.

“Master? What’s wrong?” Suzie asked.

She sniffed. “I miss him.”

“So do I,” Suzie sympathized.

You don’t understand, Kai sniffed again. I miss HIM.

The day and the hour finally came. The sponsoring radio station reminded the listeners about the new release once every five minutes. Kai knew that anyone who called herself a self-respecting Storm fan was already tuned in to the station, and waiting.

“Here we go, ladies and ladies,” the DJ announced. “The moment you’ve all been waiting for. Storm and his new single, ‘Someone’.”

A silence came immediately after this. Kai raised the volume on her radio, wondering if there was something wrong. But a sound soon came through.

Unlike his other releases, the song started with a single male voice speaking, the voice she now knew so well, while the sound of a single acoustic guitar filled the background.

“Have you listened to someone like me on radio, and thought what his life was like, and what it would be like to meet him? Well, this is what you might find out.”

Quite an unusual start for a song, but it was rather characteristic of him to bend or break the rules. The strumming of the guitar came to the foreground, and the song began.

Veiled by the bright lights

Masked by the grand nights

Someone you know is crying.

Drowned by the praises

Masked by their faces

Someone you know is screaming.

They’re scared to show others what they may be feeling

Afraid people would not understand

That they’re frightened of showing that like other people

They sometimes feel lost and alone.

It may be someone that knows you

Or someone that you know

Or maybe that someone is you

But someone is hiding

Lonely while smiling

Maybe, that someone is me.

The music that filled the song was sad, full of longing. She could imagine him as he probably looked at the recording studio. His head was bent low, carefully watching the strings, so the people at the booth could not see how often he sighed, and how he was probably close to stopping.

It had been a while since he had made a song that sad and lonely. It both said, and did not say, everything that he probably felt during the Storm wave. But it was also the kind of song guaranteed to relate to people, and for that it was sure to hit the top of the charts within a few weeks. Kai was sure of it.

As it was, the DJ was sniffing and huhuhu-ing after the song was through, while he gave the names of the sponsors.

It was Denise who called Kai when the song was through. “Kai. How are you?”

Because it was only Denise that Kai cried to, the night when she came back from the Saturday with him. Denise was the only one who knew that her idol and her neighbor were the same person.

“He’s a great singer,” Kai sniffed. “Don’t you agree?” She sniffed again.

“Definitely,” Denise replied. “Again, how are you?”

Kai sniffled. “I’ll be okay.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah.”

But she could not keep the little tears from forming around her eyes.

Conclusion

Weeks turned to months.

Slowly, like all disturbances of nature, Storm was forgotten, and he faded from the public view.

There were a few stalwarts, like the Kaiser, who still regularly visited the official and unofficial websites, who still created stories and artwork. But their kind dwindled and dwindled, until even the Kaiser checked on the websites once every two days.

With all the memories Kai had of him, she could no longer hear any of his music or look at his pictures without remembering those days, those free snacks, those long conversations. If she fostered it, she would remember him again, and her heart would ache again for not seeing him. So she avoided the things that would make her remember. She bought a pile of writeable CDs and burned all her songs and pictures onto them. Then she placed all the music CDs, the data CDs, the magazines, and the posters into a box she placed in the closet. But the room looked a little more deserted after that, and she no longer liked staying in her room.

She did not dare contact him. She felt that it would make her look desperate for his attention. Well, she was desperate for it, but she did not want to make that impression on him.

She got a call on her cellular phone.

“Suzie?”

“Master. How have you been?”

“Stop calling me ‘Master’, you underling,” Kai weakly teased back, and sighed.

“I haven’t heard from you, or even seen you, for quite a while, Master,” Suzie persisted in calling her such. “Are you okay? Is schoolwork getting you down?”

“You’re asking because I haven’t uploaded anything for you to read for a while. Admit it.”

“Well, yeah, Kai. And it’s getting me worried.”

She no longer made new stories, presumably because she was busy with reports and writeups and studying for exams. That was not exactly true. Without the inspiration, she did not feel like writing. And if she did get an idea, it was usually about him. She quickly brushed it away, remembering all her stupid mistakes, stopping the memory before she rewinded them over and over in her head.

“Master? Are you still there?”

“Yeah, Suzie…still here.”

“My father wanted to know if you were still interested in the book offer. The publisher was asking about you, and he wants a little story for a new line of books they want to make. Do you want to give it a try?”

“Yeah…sure. Why not?” she answered blankly.

It was something to get her mind off him, after all. So she tried it.

The first result was a rather depressing story about a girl and guy who met in rather unusual circumstances, but got to like each other. It was this story that had the attempted suicide…maybe Kai was channeling her own thoughts at that moment? It was this story that got…well, not rejected, but the publisher was reluctant to print such a sad story for an initial offering of a new writer.

She had read somewhere that the best stories were the ones that struck close to home, the experiences and the kind of literature that the writer knew best.

She had no choice but to tell the story she knew best.

Suzie did not know the next-door-neighbor story. Kai never did tell her, although she was never sure why. Denise did know the whole crazy tale, and it was Denise who told Kai to try writing out the weird experiences she had had, fictionalized and changed, but the same basic story.

Her fingers flew across the keyboard. Her words poured out of her head and into her fingers. She typed down everything she could remember of that time. How she saw him, how she felt about him. She wanted to understand her thoughts back then. She wanted to them to make sense. Maybe, she even wanted HIM to know about them, for him to understand them.

She despaired at all the little mistakes she made, the small misunderstandings that grew into larger and larger ones, the minor misconceptions that were not corrected. While typing her little story, she began to notice them all. She did not know if she wanted to laugh at herself, or to cry.

But she finally finished the book, ending at a hopefully happy note, where they parted ways but with promises to meet again and to keep in touch. If only that were really true, not a figment of her imagination.

So a few weeks passed, Kai typing way at her little story during her free time away from studying and typing reports.

The Saturday finally came when she was finished with the story, and printed out a hard copy so she could check for the spelling and grammar mistakes that got past her. It took a while – after all, 50 pages with font 10 print were quite a lot – but she waited patiently, happy to see a solid manifestation of her hard work.

Her mother’s voice came from the kitchen. “Kai, someone’s at the door, could you answer it for me? I can’t leave the spaghetti sauce right now…”

“Sure, mom,” Kai said and went.

Finally, a chance to walk and stretch a bit, after being crouched for some time in front of the computer, Kai considered. She was going to go outside and buy herself some taho to celebrate. The taho man should be coming around any time soon. Of course, she would do that after she answered the door. It was probably one of the messengers from the electric company, anyway. She would just get the bill and bring it inside, then go out and buy the taho.

But she opened the gate. It was not a messenger.

He was standing in front of her.

It happened to her again. That state where time stopped just for that moment, as she looked into his face and got lost in his smile.

“Oh. Hi.” That was all she said.

“Hi.”

An unnatural silence came after that. It was interrupted only by her mother.

“Oh, Bob! Nice to see you again! Kai, don’t just let him stand there outside, let him in! You’re just in time, I have merienda laid out right now! You like spaghetti, don’t you? Kai! Let him in!”

“Oh, oh, yeah, right,” she fumbled, and stepped to the side. “Come on in.”

Nothing much had changed with how he looked. He wore simpler clothes than he used to wear, but he still wore them with a style all his own: simple, well-chosen, but quirky.

“Um, what are you doing now?” Kai asked.

“I stay in Mexico nowadays…”

“Mexico, Pampanga.”

“Yup. I make songs for other people to sing now.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Of course.”

She also knew that he still accepted offers to pose for some companies. She still saw his pictures in some of the magazines, still handsome, still lovable. But they were not as many as they used to be. She realized that he was picking the offers now.

“How’s Candy?” she asked.

“She still handles my output, and she’s doing other things for other people. Same with Sir Horacio.”

“That’s good.”

“How about you, Kai?”

“Exams. Next week.”

But it was Bob who did most of the talking while they ate spaghetti and drank pineapple juice. He was still doing well. He generally talked about chickens—live ones, the kind that pecked and fought in cockfights--and rice. He actually did not miss the hectic life the music industry had given him.

He moved on to the living room after that afternoon meal.

Kai walked to their computer, and collected the printouts. She took a deep breath, and bravely walked back to the living room, the papers at her back.

She sat down beside him, but a whole cushion away from him. “Are you a fast reader?” she asked point-blank.

“Not really,” he admitted.

She showed him the stack of paper, the printouts from the computer. They were fastened together with two of those black, heavy-duty clips. “It’s…it’s my book. My very first book,” she explained.

“Wow. Cool!” He nodded his approval as he looked at the stack of papers. “I’ve heard a lot of great things about this fan writer they call the Kaiser…”

She blushed. “So you knew about that?”

He shrugged. “I’ve been to the unofficial site a few times.”

“Well, could you at least look at the first few chapters?”

“Do I have to?” he pouted with teasing eyes.

“Um, yeah…because it’s about you.”

He looked up at Kai. “Oh. Okay.” He looked at the stack of papers again, and took them up.

He read through the draft quietly. He laughed at some pages, while silently read through others. She looked at the ceiling, at the sofa, at the vases, and at the table while she waited. The suspense was killing her.

After going through at least twenty pages, he finally lowered the stack of papers, and placed it on the sofa beside him. “Not bad,” he said.

“That’s it?” she asked. What did he think about it? Was it terrible? Was he just being nice?

“Yeah. Go ahead and publish it.”

“Won’t you…won’t you get in trouble for this?”

He looked deep into her eyes. “It’s your story, not mine. I just played a part in it. But it’s your story to tell.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

After a long pause, he tried starting the conversation again. “So, what’s this book?”

“A hobby. One I hope to get paid for,” Kai replied.

He looked away. “I hate this. The way we’re talking in choppy sentences.”

“Me, too.”

He stood up, told Kai’s mother that he wanted to go for a walk and asked if he could take Kai with him. Kai stood up as well to follow him.

They managed to run into the taho vendor as they got out the gate, and they bought two cups. They ate in silence as they strolled through the street, watching little children playing and old maids chatting together.

The silence was deafening to Kai, but she did not know how to break it. Bob, on his part, did not break the silence, either.

They ended the stroll in front of the house next door to her own. Bob took out a bunch of keys and opened the gate. They went in. He checked the outside of the house, and walked to the backyard. He shook his head at how tall the grass had grown, and how dusty the garden chairs were.

Kai’s thoughts went back to that first time they met, just outside the gates. She remembered how he came close to her and whispered his screen name, then gave his name like a password to his heart. She remembered how he clumsily retrieved her project papers, and how oddly cute he looked with grass in his shirt and his hair.

She was brought back to reality as she saw him standing in front of her, looking up at her second-floor window.

“I miss you, Kai,” he said.

“You never call, text, or e-mail. Of course you’ll miss me.”

“It’s not the same as seeing you.”

“So come live here again.”

“I can’t.”

She sighed.

But he smiled. “I can’t stay here everyday, that is.”

She was not sure if she had heard right. “What…did you say?”

He scratched his head. “Yup, that’s right. That’s why I’m here. I’ll be staying here during the week. On weekends I go home to our place. So, I’ll be seeing you more often again.”

“Wha…wha…but why?”

“For work, silly! For professional reasons. It’s tough emailing stuff from there; the internet connections are faster in the city.” He grinned again. “And, your taho here is quite nice.”

At first she did not know what to think, or what to do. Then she finally decided.

It was something she had not dared to do for as long as she had known him, but all the thoughts, feelings, and experiences of the previous months met at this moment.

She came closer, wrapped her arms around his waist, and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Welcome back.”

Thanks and acknowledgements:

Dennis Uy of PSICOM, for believing in a person he had not met, and for being eternally patient.

Stephanie Afuang, for the story concept and for the consistent support.

Den Carbonell, for helping me become a Gackt fangirl, and for a lot of little and big things.

Mon Santos, for the critiques of the first draft.

Susanna Tan, fellow fangirl, for just being around and understanding.

Dr. Willie Ong, for that memorable reaction “You’re ACTUALLY writing a book?!” and not thinking any less of me.

Ken La Rosa. Ayan ha.

Mitch San Juan, Clarisse Talag, Poof Peralta, all the mams at DLSUMC TB-DOTS, for believing in me.

My mother and father, for being such great storytellers and joke tellers, and thus giving me a good ear for dialogue.

Everyone who checked my grammar, added and manipulated my various little works, and read and reviewed my fanfiction, through several years.