Behind the Mask

I woke up to the violent buzzing of my phone and a message flashing on the screen: WHERE ARE YOU NOW?!!!! Great. Just what I needed first thing in the morning. My name’s Sai. First-year college student. Emotionally unstable, academically struggling, perpetually exhausted. I’m not even exaggerating — I get furious whenever I see my grades, and honestly, I have every right to be. Some of our professors talk like they’re reciting a Wikipedia article translated in real-time. They just stand there, reading their presentation slides word for word, like we’re stuck in some endless high school orientation. I love them… but not enough to fight off the sleep demon during class. This morning was already hell. We had no water in the house, so I had to strategize just to take a half-decent bath. And I like my baths with lots of water. I deserve that much at least. But nope — no water, no soap. Nothing. Just vibes and poverty. So guess what I used? Laundry soap. Yes. The same one we use for clothes. What a blessed life. We’re so broke I don’t even pay for my jeepney fare half the time. Don’t judge me — or do, actually, I probably deserve it. But I don’t know why I never get caught. Maybe the universe pities me. Or maybe the drivers are just tired of checking who paid and who didn’t. Anyway. Back to class. Our first professor strolled in forty-five minutes late, like we were an optional side quest in his life. Look, we get it — people have problems. But entering a 1-hour-and-30-minute class when there’s literally 15 minutes left? Sir, what explosion did you survive before getting here? But also… thank you, because I wasn’t planning to listen anyway. My attention span today was legally dead. We only had three subjects that day, but each one stretched forever. Two hours feels like four when the lecture is dry as the Sahara. I swear some people teach without any passion at all. It’s like they’re paid not to care. Class ended early, thank God. I hopped on the jeep, executed my signature “ride first, blend in, disappear” technique so I wouldn’t get asked for payment. (Kids, don’t copy me. I already have enough guilt to last me five lifetimes.) After that, I headed straight to the mall because home is boring and the mall has free Wi-Fi — a luxury I treat like divine blessing. I just sat there, scrolling endless nonsense, while my brain kept replaying every cringe moment I’ve ever committed in my entire life. Why does that always happen at the worst times? Especially at 3AM or right before sleeping. College is fun but also draining. High school was lit, but two years of mine evaporated because of the pandemic, so whatever. At the mall, I kill time doing “windowshopping.” But it’s not the normal type. My friends taught me their dumb version: rating random girls, judging silently, pretending we’re some panel of fashion judges with zero qualifications. Honestly, I feel bad for pretty girls stuck with trash boyfriends. Like, babe… raise your standards. But hey, who am I to talk? I’m not exactly a walking green flag myself. While I was pretending to be invisible on a bench, someone suddenly spoke behind me. “Hey, what are you doing there sitting all by yourself?” Of course. Of course the universe sent her. My best friend, Shinrah. She plopped down beside me like she owned the spot. I swear my soul sighed. Don’t get me wrong — she’s great, she’s sweet, she’s literally sunshine. But seeing her face without warning always scrambles my brain. And yeah, I’ve had a crush on her since we were kids, but she’s way too innocent to be mixed with someone like me. She kept leaning toward my phone, peeking like some curious cat. I hate when people do that — even though, I’ll admit, I do it to others too. Hypocrite behavior unlocked. I put on my headphones, pretended she didn’t exist, and opened my browser to listen to music. Meanwhile, she just kept talking, ranting, laughing, sharing stories I didn’t ask for. Her voice blending with the mall noise, the chaos of college life, the echo of that text message still stuck in my mind. WHERE ARE YOU NOW?!!!! I ignored it… for now. Because something about that message didn’t feel normal. Something in my chest twisted. And somewhere deep in my memory — the part full of gaps and shadows — a name whispered: Liam. But I didn’t know why. Not yet.