Waiting For Delivery

CHAPTER FIVE

“Ano na? Ilang beses na nating pinlano ‘to, wala pa ring natutuloy,” Janine said, poking me with her elbow.

“Alin?” I asked, pretending I didn’t know.

She raised a brow. “Yung inuman! Halos isang buwan na tayong nagtatrabaho dito, wala man lang welcome drink?”

I laughed. “Baka welcome reprimand ang abutin natin. Bawal dito, diba?”

“Secret lang! Inside the room. Walang ingay, walang Bluetooth speaker, pinky swear!”

“E saan kukuha ng alak?”

Lea appeared right on cue, hair still wrapped in a towel. “Yun nga eh, kanina sabi ni Mark, may nakita siyang Hong Thong sa Lotus.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Si Mark pa nagsabi? Di ko in-expect.”

Janine smirked. “Ay naku, ‘wag ka magpahuli. Akala mo tahimik, pero sa loob nun, rock ‘n roll.”

Just then, Mark walked by carrying a small plastic bag of bread and milk. He raised it like a trophy. “Essential supplies.”

Janine narrowed her eyes. “Essentials daw. Pero may chismis kaming ibang supply ang balak mong bilhin.”

Mark didn’t flinch. “Eh kung matuloy nga ‘yung plano niyong walang natutuloy, edi sama ako.”

“Gusto mo na agad eh!” Lea said, laughing.

“Okay, okay. So, tuloy tonight?” I asked, half-expecting another “next time.”

“Tonight na. Wala nang atrasan,” Janine declared, hands on her hips like a general preparing for war.

“Paano ‘yung ingay?” Lea asked.

“Simple. We whisper. Laugh sa unan. At pinaka-importante—walang tatanga-tanga sa lagayan ng bote. Pag may kumatok, vanish agad,” Janine instructed like she’d been rehearsing this.

Mark nodded, “Bibili na ako. Kayo na sa pulutan.”

Lea and I were stuffing chips and dried squid into a drawer just in case someone barged in.

Janine was peeling off the “emergency blanket” we’d hang to cover the light, whispering “stage lights” dramatically.

Mark knocked with a soft rhythm—three short taps. The code.

“Andito na,” he said when we opened the door. “Mission successful.”

Inside the plastic bag: Two bottles of Hong Thong, pre-cooled in ice water.

We all stared at it.

“Akala ko matagal pa ulit,” Lea said, almost solemnly.

Janine raised her hand. “Mga kaibigan, welcome sa walang kwentang planong sa wakas, natuloy din.”

We laughed—half disbelief, half excitement.

“Shot na ba agad?” Mark teased.

“Wait, wait,” I said. “Let’s do a round of rules.”

“Rules? Akala ko inuman, hindi seminar,” Janine groaned.

“Rule #1: Walang tataas ng boses,” I started.

“Rule #2: Kapag sumigaw, may dare.”

“Rule #3: Walang bitter. Literal and metaphorical,” Mark added with a smirk.

“Rule #4: Walang iiyak sa sahig!” Lea shouted in a whisper.

Everyone burst out laughing.

The room smelled faintly of cup noodles and fabric softener. One fluorescent bulb flickered overhead, but we turned it off, choosing instead the soft glow of Janine’s small desk lamp tilted sideways under a thin shawl—our makeshift ambient light.

The floor was cleared—pillows stolen from our bunks, a stack of chichirya from the last grocery run laid out over a folded towel. In the center, two 1-liter bottles of Hong Thong sat, half-hid behind a plastic bag in case we had to make them disappear quickly. Cups were mismatched—some from the dorm kitchen, one from someone’s travel tumbler, and one from an old Yakult bottle.

“Wala munang malalakas na tawa, ha?” I whispered as I closed the door quietly behind me.

Janine gave a thumbs-up from her seat by the mini fan. “Promise. ASMR lang lahat tonight.”

Mark, already seated cross-legged in one corner, chuckled. “ASMR my a*s. Janine, ikaw palang wala nang tahimik.”

Everyone stifled a laugh.

“Uy, Mark, behave,” Lea said, grinning as she poured a careful shot into one of the cups. “Baka ikaw na naman ang mapagalitan ni Ate Manager sa baba.”

Mark was quiet at first, with sharp eyes that looked like they’d seen too much too early, but he had a soft way of speaking and a surprisingly sharp sense of humor. From Pampanga. Used to work in a restaurant. Spoke fluent Thai from years of practice. Chill, tahimik, pero pag nagbitaw ng banat, sapul sa bituka.

“Walang laglagan,” he said, raising a hand. “Sige na, shot na ‘to.”

We passed the cups around in a circle. Each of us leaned close as we drank, whispering small curses at the taste.

“Putek, ang tapang pa rin,” Janine winced.

“Sanay ka diba?” I teased. “Kalahati ng grocery mo puro chaser.”

“Para sa lasa! Di para uminom,” she defended.

Lea rolled her eyes. “Excuses!”

“Okay. Roll call ng mga unang impression,” Janine said, dramatically placing her pillow on her lap like it was a microphone.

“Oh no…” I groaned.

“Simulan natin kay… Mark!”

He blinked, a bit surprised, but played along. “Unang impression ko kay Janine? Kala ko ‘di ako magugustuhan kasi parang ang sosyal.”

Janine gasped. “Sosyal?!”

“Yung aura mo. Parang anak ng may-ari ng hotel.”

“Uy grabe ka! Nagda-drama lang ako para ‘di halata homesick ko no!” she laughed, but it softened into something honest.

We all fell quiet for a moment. Homesick. The word hung in the air like incense.

“’Yun din siguro sakin,” Lea said. “I kept acting like I had it together. Kasi takot akong magmukhang mahina.”

I nodded, sipping my drink. “Ako din. Ang dami kong na-miss sa bahay. Pero dito… parang wala kang choice kundi maging okay.”

Mark leaned forward, his tone gentler. “Kaya siguro ngayon lang tayo nagkakaaminan, no? Kasi palagi nating inuuna yung trabaho, tapos pagod na pagod na lang sa dulo.”

“Same,” I added quietly. “Akala ko sobrang layo ko sa inyo. Pero ang totoo, lahat tayo may dalang bigat.”

Lea glanced across the room. “I have something to say”

Everyone looked up.

“I just wanna say sorry… kay Mark. For that time sa kitchen na napagtaasan kita ng boses. Na-stress lang ako nun, pero hindi yun excuse.”

Mark nodded slowly. “Okay lang. Napikon din ako nun pero… gets ko rin naman. Lahat tayo under pressure.”

The tension eased, and a few more silent nods followed.

“Meron din akong aaminin,” Janine said, her voice uncharacteristically small. “May isang beses, napikon ako sa’yo, Annie. Kasi parang hindi mo ako kinakausap.”

I blinked. “Akala ko ikaw yung umiiwas.”

She laughed, almost sadly. “Ang labo natin.”

“Grabe,” I chuckled, “nakakatawa pero totoo. Baka may mga nasaktan tayo nang hindi sinasadya.”

“We were all just trying to survive,” Lea said. “But now we’re finally living.”

We all raised our cups, no more shouting—just a soft clinking of plastic.

“To healing,” Mark whispered.

“To each other,” I added.

“To the quiet ones, the funny ones, the homesick ones,” Janine said.

After the tears, came the laughter. It was as if the unspoken burdens were lifted.

“Naalala niyo yung guest na humingi ng itlog pero raw?” Mark asked, suddenly.

“’Yung gustong kainin ‘raw’ talaga?!” Janine laughed so hard she fell backward onto a pillow.

“Sabi niya, ‘I want egg… but not fire.’”

“Akala ko ipapa-ritual niya!” Lea cackled.

Even I was doubled over. “He was holding it like… like baby chick is about to come out!”

We laughed until our stomachs hurt, until someone gasped “Shh! Baka marinig tayo!” and we all slapped our hands over our mouths, still giggling.

At 3AM, the bottle was almost empty. The chichirya was gone. One of us was already curled up on a mattress, snoring lightly.

I sat by the window, cracked open slightly. Bangkok lights flickered in the distance. Behind me, Mark and Janine were still talking in hushed tones, while Lea hummed a song only she recognized.

I looked at all of them—at the makeshift family we’d built under one roof, in a country not our own.

Home wasn’t always a place. Sometimes it was a room with six others, plastic cups, secrets spilled between sips, and laughter you’d fight to keep alive.