His Bestfriend

Chapter 1 - Struggles

Mark stood in the Administration Office, his voice trembling with desperation.

"Ma'am, could I please ask for an extension? I’ll pay as soon as I get my salary," he pleaded, feeling the crushing weight of responsibility pressing down on him.

The staff member looked at him with a sympathetic but firm expression.

"Sir, I’m really sorry. We can’t issue another promissory note, especially since it’s already the semi-finals, and you’re a graduating student. According to our records, you still have balances for your prelim and midterm exams," she explained, her voice steady and professional. To Mark, her words felt like his entire future was slipping away.

"Even if you don’t record my scores yet, Ma'am," Mark begged, his voice cracking. "I really need to take the exam, or else I’ll fail. Please."

"Sir, we're just following orders and the school’s policies. I’m truly sorry," she responded softly, though her words felt final—like a door closing on every bit of hope Mark had left.

Mark nodded, feeling a heavy wave of helplessness settle in his chest. He understood that the staff member was just doing her job, but that didn’t make the reality any easier to swallow. It felt like all his hard work was slipping through his fingers.

"Is Mrs. Velasquez here today?" he asked, holding on to a last shred of hope that the head of the Administration Office might understand his situation.

"No, she’s in important meetings today, Sir. She also left strict instructions not to issue any more promissory notes, especially for students with outstanding balances like yours," the staff member replied, her tone apologetic but firm.

"I see. Thank you," Mark whispered, barely able to get the words out. His legs felt heavy as he slowly rose from his chair and walked out of the office, the reality of his situation bearing down on him like a suffocating weight. He closed the door behind him, leaning against the wall, feeling utterly defeated.

He felt like his whole world was crumbling. The looming balance and his part-time job, which barely covered his daily expenses, left him with no clear path forward. He buried his face in his hands, overwhelmed by frustration, as if every solution was slipping further out of reach.

One semester.

Two exams.

That was all that stood between him and graduation. After completing his internship on a ship last semester, it now seemed like all his efforts were about to be wasted.

Mark couldn’t help but wonder if life was really fair. Other students, from wealthy families, seemed to breeze through, spending their parents' money without a care in the world. Meanwhile, he struggled to make ends meet, counting every penny.

His phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw a message from Aling Medy. His heart sank before he even opened it.

"Mark, I’m sorry, but I have to collect the rent payment. You’re three months behind. You have until the end of the week, and if you still can’t pay, I’ll have to rent the room to someone else. Thank you."

A cold wave of dread washed over him. Aling Medy had always been kind, but he knew her patience was running out. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but he forced himself to look up at the ceiling, fighting to keep his emotions in check.

Mark bit his lip, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He felt like he couldn’t breathe under the weight of everything piling on top of him. Every problem seemed endless, like he was completely drained and ready to give up. He desperately wished for a sign that things would get better. His thoughts turned to his parents, wishing he could draw on their strength to get through this.

"Mom, Dad, please give me the strength to reach my dreams. For you... and for myself. Help me," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Taking a deep breath, Mark wiped his eyes and stood up straight. He knew he had no choice but to keep moving forward, no matter how difficult the road ahead seemed.

"I have to keep moving forward," he muttered to himself, as if trying to convince his heart to believe it. He knew he had a long way to go, but he had come so far already. He believed he could overcome this.

As he walked toward the school gate, he spotted Sir Vincent approaching down the hallway, carrying a stack of books and his laptop. The sight of him made Mark's stomach churn. There were projects he still hadn’t submitted, and they were really behind schedule because of his work. Exhausted after coming home at 2 or 3 in the morning, he had hoped for an extension, a chance to catch up.

"Hi, Sir Vincent," Mark called out, doing his best to steady his voice. Sir Vincent stopped and gave him a warm smile.

"Good afternoon, Mark," the professor replied. "What can I do for you?"

Mark hesitated, nervously scratching his eyebrow. "About my projects, Sir..." he began but trailed off, unsure of how to explain everything that had happened.

"Oh, yes. I received them. James turned them in for you this morning," Sir Vincent said, cutting off his explanation. "I’ve also reviewed them. They're fine, even though they were late. I understand balancing work and school is tough, so don’t worry. I’ll handle it."

Mark’s eyes widened in disbelief. James? He hadn’t mentioned a word. Why had he gone out of his way to help without even telling him?

"Really, Sir? Thank you so much for understanding," Mark replied, trying to mask the overwhelming gratitude that surged through him. As Sir Vincent walked away, Mark stood there, his smile fading into a frown.

Why did James do that without telling me? And how did he even know about the projects?

"Mark," he heard a familiar voice say. Mark turned to see James approaching, a concerned smile on his face. "Are you okay? You seem lost in thought."

"W-What? No, I’m fine," Mark stammered, unsure whether to confront James about the projects or to confide in him about everything else weighing on his mind.

"You can't fool me. We've been friends for four years, Mark. I can tell when something's wrong," James said, his eyes filled with genuine concern. Mark smiled weakly, touched by his friend’s intuition and care. "Come on, let’s grab a drink. You look like you could use a break," James suggested, giving Mark a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

Mark could only nod. A break sounded good—especially with everything going on. It had become their routine whenever one of them was struggling: grabbing a beer, talking about life, and just being there for each other. With James, Mark didn’t have to pretend. He could let his guard down, and that was enough.

They headed to the parking lot, where James’ car was parked. James climbed into the driver's seat, and Mark followed, settling in beside him.

James was Mark's closest friend at the University of the Marines, a prestigious school for students with dreams of becoming Marines or excelling in specialized fields. While there were other programs—architecture, engineering, IT—the standout ones were marine-related. They were both studying BS Marine Transportation and shared the same dream of one day traveling the world on big ships.

Their friendship had formed quickly during their first year, despite their contrasting backgrounds. Mark came from a modest family, while James was the son of a wealthy businessman from Cebu. Yet, their shared goal and determination to succeed had drawn them together.

Mark's life had been far from easy. His father was a construction worker, and his mother took on various jobs just to cover their daily expenses. After they tragically passed away in a car accident, Mark was left to fend for himself. The driver responsible for the accident had fled, and despite Mark's efforts to seek justice, the case stalled due to financial constraints. Every day, Mark wondered if his parents would want him to keep fighting for justice or focus on securing his own future. Either way, he promised to make them proud by graduating, succeeding as a marine, and building a life that honored the values they had taught him.

Mark’s world felt shattered after losing his parents. He had even reached a point where he considered following them.

He had been in his second year of college, still full of hope, when the police delivered the devastating news. It took everything in him to find the strength to move forward, but Mark was determined not to let their sacrifices be in vain. He worked double shifts to pay for rent, tuition, and daily expenses, taking on jobs as a carwash boy, a janitor, and anything else he could find.

After their deaths, Mark moved closer to the university to save on transportation costs. Though his life had been filled with hardships, he found solace knowing that James had stood by him through it all. James had become more than a friend to him—he was practically family. Sometimes Mark felt like fate had brought them together, knowing he would need someone as reliable as James to help him navigate his darkest days.

"We're here," James said, snapping Mark out of his thoughts as they arrived at the condo's parking lot.

Mark playfully teased James as they stopped. "When are you finally going to bring your girl here? I feel like I’m your only visitor."

James chuckled, shaking his head. He claimed he had never brought anyone—female or otherwise—to the condo except for Mark. Despite his undeniable charm and looks, Mark believed him. James was undeniably attractive, with his warm, fair skin and a physique that turned heads wherever he went. He used to invite Mark to the gym, but after some time, James ended up going alone since Mark preferred to use his free time for work.

Their white school uniforms seemed made for James, perfectly complementing his toned body and well-shaped figure. Sometimes Mark couldn’t help but wonder why James was still single when so many girls were vying for his attention.

"You know my dad would give me grief if he ever found out I brought girls here. He's got a reputation to protect," James laughed as he unbuckled his seatbelt. Mark followed suit, and they both got out of the car.

James had everything—a car, money, a comfortable condo, and a father who supported him. Though they didn’t see each other often because of his dad’s business in Cebu, James didn’t mind; he seemed content with his life. His father loved him, and that was enough. His mother had left years ago, and neither James nor his dad bothered to look for her. Despite the missing maternal figure, the father and son appeared to have a good relationship, with his dad providing James with the life he deserved.

Mark trailed behind as they walked to the basement elevator. They rode up in comfortable silence until they reached the 13th floor where James's condo was located. Once inside, James unlocked the door, and Mark made a beeline for the bed. He collapsed onto it, feeling the weight of his troubles momentarily ease. The soft pillows and plush mattress were a luxury compared to what he was used to. Mark wasn’t a first-time visitor; the condo had become a second home over the years. Though James treated him like family, Mark never took advantage of his generosity. He was open with James about his struggles but always declined offers of money, wanting to make it on his own. He didn’t want to be seen as taking advantage of their friendship.

James tossed some clothes at him, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Here, change into these."

"Thanks," Mark mumbled as he sat up, pulling off his uniform and slipping into the clothes James had given him. He unbuttoned his slacks, noticing James’s gaze linger momentarily on the zipper before he looked away, lost in thought.

"Is something wrong?" Mark asked, halfway through lowering the zipper.

"Hey, are you saying I’ve gained weight? We’re the same size, you know," Mark joked, slipping out of his slacks and into the gray sweatshorts James had lent him. He continued to change, unfazed by James’s presence. They were used to this routine, and Mark didn’t feel self-conscious. They were both guys, after all.

"Did you get the beer?" Mark asked, now fully dressed.

"In the fridge. Help yourself. I’ll get changed real quick," James replied.

"I’ll pay you back when I get my salary," Mark said, heading to the fridge and marveling at the array of drinks inside. "You’re always treating me to beer."

James shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips. "Come on, this place is as much yours as it is mine."

Mark didn’t argue. He knew James wasn’t stingy. Money didn’t matter to him as much as having a good time with friends. And so, instead of making a fuss, Mark joined in the teasing, letting the warmth of their friendship wash over him.

"You planning on an early death?" Mark joked, looking at the beers James had already downed. Concern mixed with amusement in his voice.

James laughed, the sound filling the room. It was moments like these that reminded Mark of how grateful he was to have a friend like him. No matter how tough life got, James was always there, offering a place to rest, a drink to share, and a shoulder to lean on.

Mark grabbed two bottles of beer, joining James, who was now standing by the veranda, looking out over the city lights.

"Do you remember our professor, Sir Vincent? He told me this morning that you turned in my projects for me?" Mark asked, glancing at James with a look of curiosity. Their eyes met, and for a moment, Mark saw a flicker of guilt on James's face, as if he hadn’t expected Mark to find out about his silent act of kindness.

James let out a quiet sigh, meeting his friend’s gaze. Mark realized then, perhaps more than ever, that James had always been there—not just as a friend, but as someone who truly cared about him, willing to do whatever it took to make sure he succeeded.

"Huh? Well, um… yeah," James replied, clearly uncomfortable. "I told you, didn’t I? You could always ask for help if you needed it. We're friends, and you didn’t reach out. If Julius hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t have known about it. How would you have graduated if I hadn’t stepped in?" His voice was filled with a mix of concern and frustration. After explaining, he quickly averted his gaze, taking a sip of beer to mask his unease.

Mark tried to lighten the mood with a joke. "Well, that was fast. I didn’t know you were a rapper," he said with a small smile, adding a bit of humor to the tension. But then his tone shifted as he added, "But honestly, it’s embarrassing. You’ve gone through so much and worked so hard for those things." His voice softened, filled with gratitude and a hint of shame. He took a sip of his drink, quietly acknowledging the unspoken effort and sacrifice his friend had made for him.

Their conversation soon shifted to lighthearted banter as they settled in for the evening. Beer cans began to pile up around them as they laughed, talked about life, and forgot their worries for a while.