The Promise

Chapter Three: Until My Song Reaches You

Charles woke up to the sound of his phone's ringing.  Still sleepy and tired, he took his cellphone and answered the person calling.  It was his mom.  He checked the watch on his bedside table.  It said 7:43 AM.  Now, what could his mother want this early in the day of Saturday?  

"Hi, Mom." he greeted, sound coarse from sleep.  He stood up and went to the kitchen to make himself coffee.  

"Good morning, Charles! How are you today?" Charles heard two voices from the other line.  The other person is probably his dad.  Their actions truly bother Charles.  What's up with their excitement anyway?

"Fine." he half-heartedly replied.  Slurping from his coffee and letting the caffeine kick in, his mind travelled back to last night's date with his boyfriend while the enthusiastic voices of his parents hung in the air.  

They went to the mall and watched a midnight move premiere of this...this...

Huh, curious.  He couldn't recall the story nor the name of the blasted movie they watched.  Now, why is that?  The thing is, since meeting the strange guy who happened to be his housemate, his mind drifted.  He wasn't able to pay attention to his much-awaited date with the doctor because he kept thinking about Gavin.   He knew full well that he had just met Gavin.  But something called out to him saying that was not the truth.  Now, that something...he had no idea.  

He rubbed his temples, soothing the panic that was slowly creeping in, and dropped his reverie.  No good can come from overthinking.  He reminded himself.

"So, we'll be there at 10 this morning!"

Wait, what?! Charles almost spat his coffee.  What did his parents say?!

"What?!"

"We'll visit you today at 10."

"No! You can't come here today! My housemate is moving in today!" he exclaimed.

"Okay. It's settled then.  We'll be there at 10.  Bye!"

"Wai--

The call ended.  He gripped his phone tight, annoyed at his parents' tendency to do whatever the crap they want.  He sighed in exasperation and gently put down his phone.  Really, what had taken over his parents?

A knock on the door came.  Charles opened it and was caught by surprise.

"Morni---

Gavin couldn't finish his greetings due to the vulgarity of what he's seeing.  Wide-eyed out of realization, Charles slammed the door, flushed with embarrassment, hurried to his room and put on a short over his blue-striped boxers.  Outside, Gavin was trying his best to not burst into laughter.  It was not the first time he had seen Charles in his underwear, yet Charles's flustered expression never fails to c***k him up.

The door opened again.  And this time, Charles with decent clothes to show.  Gavin entered carrying his gray duffel bag and a medium-sized box.  Upon entry, Gavin couldn't help but be awed at the house's interior. 

The maroon and black combination as the color motif perfectly suited the wooden and glass furniture.  A person who will enter will immediately notice the bar counter inspired kitchen; bottles of wine held by customized encasing of the main scaffold, three compartments, a huge silver refrigerator, and an induction cooker inches away from the service counter.

Gavin's eyes focused on the two doors from his right.  Those must be the rooms.  

"Wow.  You sure are early." Charles commented, cheeks still red.

"I did say I'll move in today." Gavin nonchalantly replied, putting down his box and duffel bag on the plush maroon sofa facing the LED television appliance.  

"Yes, but I didn't expect you to move in this early." Charles muttered.

"What?" 

"Nothing.  I said, d'you want some coffee?" Charles asked, preparing another set of coffee.  This time, he also instinctively put out the milk and sugar.  He likes his coffee black but somehow he always ends up buying sugar and milk as if he would use them.

"Sure. With two tablespoonsful of sugar and milk, please." 

Hmm.  What do you know.  The universe knows how to dictate.  Charles thought while making the coffee.  He's a sweet tooth.  He added.

"Here." he said, handing out the cup of coffee to Gavin.  

"You've got a nice place here." Gavin commented, then sipped on his sweet coffee.

"D'you want me to tour you around or---

"No need.  Although I do need to know where my room is."

Charles pointed to the first door nearest the living room and yards away from the door.  

"Cool." Gavin said, thinking the meaning behind Charles's two rooms.  One nearest the door and the other away from it.  Did I really scar him so that he feared the door at night?

"Well, I'll leave you to it then." Charles said, finishing his coffee and walking back to his room. And then he stopped midway.  He faced Gavin earnestly.

"Hey. How'd you find my house?" Charles asked, hiding his suspicion.

"Ads." Gavin replied casually. 

"Right. Okay."

He turned back and when he got to his room, his suspicious mind began to work.  Who finds a house that quickly?  And he only put up his advertisement two days after his parent's incessant urging.  He has been feeling it since last night.  There is something about Gavin.  Something inexplainable but the answers lie at the tip of his comprehension.  His head ached.  Not the splitting headache he once felt everyday of his life since his apparent k********g.  He had no memory of the incident.  But his parents told him.  From then on, his head ached horribly, even more painful during the nights when he urged himself to sleep.  Until one day, when he was admitted to an odd hospital.  Until that day, the ache stopped but replaced with a new, and far worse one.  He did not know the cause of his pains.  He had no memory.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cooped up in his room, dreading to go outside because of the mayhem and embarrassment his parents had caused, Charles grabbed his phone hoping to see a particular text message that could salvage his day.  Nothing.  Not even a petty "hi".  He sighed.  What else is knew anyway?  For the past two years that they have been dating, Gerald never did take any initiative to be with him.  He understands the tight schedule.  After all, Dr. Zarate is not only a physician in Charles's school but a full-time doctor in Medical City--a private hospital co-owned by his father after buying out the previous shares to save the hospital.   

Sometimes, Charles can't help but think that the only reason Gerald plays along with his pettiness is gratitude.  No matter how many times Gerald assured him, Charles can't stop doubting.

"Charles?"

Gavin's call knocked him out of his reverie.  He slowly opened the door to see Gavin's smiling face.

"Yes?" Charles answered, still conscious because of utter embarrassment and something else he can't explain.

"I'm gonna eat outside.  Wanna come with?"

"No. It's okay.  I'm not hun---

His line was cut off due to his rambling stomach. Crap.

Gavin laughed.  Boy, he sure laughed plenty today. Charles thought, remembering the seemingly good time Gavin had with his overly-excited parents.  They really came at 10, telling lots of stories about Charles as if they already knew Gavin.  More and more, Charles is being convinced that something conspicuous is happening.

"Com'on.  I could use the tour." Gavin said.

"Okay, sure." 

They walked side by side in silence, Charles keeping at least a meter of distance between him and Gavin.

"So, where should we eat?" Gavin finally asked.  They had passed plenty of stalls within their subdivision and a few restaurants outside.  Charles seemed preoccupied with his thoughts.  Gavin tried to suppress his emotions.  He could feel Charles's cautiousness around him.  An action justly expected of him.  Why did I leave him?  Gavin once again asked himself, torturing his insides, frustrated at having to start again because of a decision from a long time ago.

"What?" Charles replied, clearly not paying attention.

"You know this place.  Where's the best place to eat?" Gavin urged on, taking every little moment.  Every little moments of opportunity to be with Charles.

Charles looked around.  They are surrounded by commercial buildings filled with different eateries; some fancy because of their world-renowned names; others an obvious struggling business because of the restaurants with world-renowned names.  Charles, suddenly aware of his ignorance, picked the one his eye had first cast upon.

"That one." He pointed.

"Great. Let's go." 

They walked towards the restaurant Charles picked.  When they entered, the air of sophistication sprung up at them.  The golden laurel decorations as the primary motif of the place emphasized its atmosphere.  Adding to that is the demography of the customers--people with expendable money in their pockets.  As the maitre'd showed them a vacant table, Charles kept muttering to himself, This is a disaster.  Not only were they not dressed for the place but the number of people inside elicited Charles's nervous reaction.  He tried to fight back his crawling anxiety as they sat opposite each other.  

"Guess we're having fancy lunch." Gavin idly commented with the ulterior intention of poking fun at Charles.  It became quite obvious to Gavin that Charles never ate outside, at least to this place.  Charles, although coming from a well-to-do family, never actually liked wealthy and extravagant things or the perks handed to him simply for being one of the richest family in Asia.  Charles is a simple person that in consequence, he also has a simple palette.  One of his traits that draw Gavin to like a moth to a fire.

The waiter approached them eventually, awaiting orders.  Gavin put down his menu, staring at Charles who is hiding behind the large menu--to hide his anxiousness, perhaps.  Gavin can't help but to tease.

"Charles, you've been here before.  What should we eat?"

"What?" Charles suddenly looked up from the menu and noticed the young waiter, readying his pencil and paper, and Gavin who's smiling eagerly.

He cleared his throat and nervously croaked, "Er, the special please." Fancy restaurants always have that, right?  Charles asked himself, doubtful of his reply to the waiter.

"Two specials coming in ten minutes.  In the meantime, enjoy our appetizer." The waiter waved to the small bowl of shrimps.

Gavin ate his.  Charles just looked at it.  Black, beady eyes staring up at him, as if accusing him.  He diverted his attention to his environment.  Which was a mistake, he soon realized.  His breathing shallowed, cold sweats began to trickle down his face, while he hyper-focused to everyone's faces, obscuring their image, like a psychedelia or the world seen through a kaleidoscope mirror.  For sure, he could hear muffled whispers of malicious comments thrown at him by everyone; and he felt his heart descending to a slow tempo of beats.  Dub----dub-----dub------dub

"Charles, you okay?" Gavin asked, concerned.  What's happening to him?

Dizzy with anxiety, Charles stood up and stumbled his way outside.  Past the accusing eyes yet in reality curious eyes of confused and surprised fancy people.  

"Charles!" Gavin called out.  He decided to follow him when the waiter finally arrived with their order.  Gavin took one look at the 'special'.  A platter full of dismembered sea creatures.  Charles would not eat their special.  He put down five one-hundred peso bills and rushed his way outside.  He looked around and saw Charles retching at a narrow pathway, 100 yards away from the restaurant.

"Charles!" Gavin once again called out.

Wiping the corners of his mouth, Charles glanced at Gavin, anger evident in his eyes.  Not actually towards Gavin.  What does he know anyway?  They just met.  No, he wasn't angry at Gavin but at himself.  For being such a weakling and a stupid ass.  Still, he ignored Gavin as he began to walk back home.  

Gavin followed Charles, deeply concern but unsure of what to do nor how to act.  He felt foolish at his earlier stunt.  He should have not push Charles's anxiety level.  It's just too early.  

"Charles." Gavin called, grabbing Charles's shoulder, in his mind a back-up plan.

"What!?" Charles asked, annoyed.

Gavin smiled in reply to Charles's irritation. 

"I actually know a great place to eat.  It's a bit far, though." 

Eyebrows burrowing, Charles took offense at his housemate's gullibility and dense mind.  Take a hint, you i***t!  Charles thought in annoyance.

Seeing Charles's stern expression, Gavin braced himself for an outburst.  But almost immediately, Charles's face softened.  

"Look.  I-uh, I just want to go home.  Don't be offended but we did just met.  It's no use trying to force your friendship."

Gavin stepped back, disheartened and let Charles walk away.  Am I that obvious?  He asked himself.  However, if he would not use whatever means possible, how can he keep his promise? He caught up to Charles and grabbed him by the side.

"He-y! What!" Charles yelled in surprise.

"You're not gonna regret this, I promise." Gavin said.  He quickly grabbed a taxi and almost shoved Charles inside.

"Where are we going?" Charles disinterestedly asked, giving up his energy to resist.

"Six O'clock." Gavin answered. 

Charles frowned.  What a stupid answer to a question of place.  Wait.  Six O'clock?  Charles looked at Gavin intently.  Then it hit him.  Six O'clock is a resto-bar in Fifth Avenue--a walking distance from his university.  It opens at six in the evening and closes at 6 AM, hence the name.  It is famous for students from theirs and most of the neighboring universities.  Charles has no idea why.  After all, he only knows the place, he doesn't dare enter it.  He has no courage to do anything that deals with too many people, in fact.  

But how could they eat there?  It's only noon.  Another six hours before its opening.  

"You want us to eat Six O'clock? You sure you know that place?" Charles asked rather condescendingly.

"Yep.  Too well." Gavin replied.

After that, their ride became silent and awkward, the both of them pondering each other's actions.  Gavin, trying to empathize with Charles's fears and anxiety.  And Charles, well still trying to unpuzzle Gavin's identity.

They finally arrived at Six O'clock.  As Charles had expected, the place was closed.  He almost sneered at Gavin when the iron bar gate opened slightly.  Gavin grinned at Charles's perplexed expression, then invited him to follow.  After entering the gate, the huge wooden door paved way automatically.

Okay, what's up?  Charles thought in awe.

Charles finally understood why the place is famous.  It's interior design is marvelous.  The over-all wooden motif set the tone for the earthy feeling, alongside with wilderness designs.  The bar would take a patron to the pioneering days of America, like in the movies depicting the Wild West.  The whole place is of a different time in itself.  How can a place be simple yet extravagant?

"Pick any table you want.  I'll order for us." Gavin said.

Charles obeyed and chose a table nearest the center-stage.  The sunlight refracting from the glass panels of the roof directly hit the stage, creating a natural spotlight.

Somehow, he feels comfortable here.  Perhaps, it's just the fact that no one else is present except the two of them and of course, the barkeep.  Gavin returned, carrying with him a plate full of fried rice and boneless bangus--his favorite, and crab cakes for Charles.

Charles eyed the crab cakes--his hunger suddenly kicking in.  He quickly ate one and--

"Hmmm." Was all he could utter after taking a bite of the luscious crab cakes.  Gavin watched Charles, secretly smiling.  Crab cake is Charles's favorite comfort food.  Whenever he's feeling down, Gavin would mention crab cake and Charles would light up.  Guess some things never change.  Gavin thought to himself.

"This is the best crab cake I've ever had." Charles happily commented.  Although, somehow, the taste is familiar.  Or is that just his neurosis?

"It's my recipe." Gavin said.

"Your--recipe?"

"Yep."

"How come?"

"Oh, I own this place."  Gavin replied with a hint of condescension.  Charles was surprised at the revelation.  It did explain their easy access, though.

"Well, part-owner."  Gavin corrected himself as he saw a bulky figure approaching them.

"Hey, Sachi!" Gavin greeted, standing up to hug the guy.

"Hiya, Gavin, my man!" Sachi replied excitedly.  Sachi is a huge person with bulky features befitting his size.  Though his size may intimidate a passerby, his personality is quite the opposite.  Laid-back like a hippie and cheerful like a retriever dog, that is how Gavin sees Sachi Mendez--the half-Japanese owner of Six O'clock.

Sachi noticed Charles silently enjoying his crab cakes.  "Who's the guy?"

"Oh, he's Charles." Charles looked up, cheeks full, smiled and continued munching.

He's so cute.  Gavin told himself.

"Oh! Charles." Sachi said, eyes wide with realization.  He looked intently at Charles who's still not minding them and grinned at Gavin.  Gavin signaled him to remain quiet.  Sachi winked in reply.

"So, you wanna sing tonight?" Sachi asked.

Upon hearing that, Charles feigned uninterest but listened attentively.  

"Nah."

"Oh, com'on!  Our patrons love ya!  Your voice put us in the map, remember?  Com'on, lad.  People miss ya.  They been asking me about this dude who has the voice of an angel, they said.  I told them, why would y'all want him when I could sing for y'all.   They booed me, man." 

Gavin chuckled at the man.  It had been two years since he last sang here.  Now, he moved himself to the shadows and manages the resto-bar from it.   Then he glanced at Charles, busy with his crab cakes.  Perhaps...

"Sure.  I'll sing tonight.  But just one song." 

"Man! Cool.  See ya tonight, aight?  Oh, and Charles, is it?  Ya should really hear him sing.  This lad's sure to sweep ya off ya feet." Sachi said, chuckling, before leaving.

Gavin sat down and saw Charles staring at him. 

"What?"

"You're the reason this place became famous?!" Charles asked.

"Would it be arrogant of me if I say yes?" 

"Not really.  I can picture it perfectly.  Girls like a good-looking man who can sing." Finishing his crab cakes, Charles timidly smiled at Gavin--hiding a small hint of jealousy even if he denies it.  But Gavin caught a wisp of it.  

"You think I'm good-looking?" Gavin asked, pressing on the topic.

"Sure.  Bet you liked the attention."

Gavin smiled.  "Who wouldn't? But I didn't actually notice it nor was I thinking about it.  There is always only one person in my mind whenever I sing.  And it's always for that person."  Gavin explained, not taking his eyes off Charles.

"I thought you're a student like me." Charles commented, intervening with Gavin's intense stare.

"I stopped studying years ago." 

"Why?"

"I lost my reason."  Gavin replied, flashing himself back to those years in the past he could not relive nor get back.  "Anyway, I came upon this place five years ago.  I was homeless and starving.  Haven't eaten decent food for three days.  I collapsed.  Just right outside.  Sachi came to my rescue.  He took me in.  Fed me.  In return, I worked here.  I was the busboy, bartender, and janitor.  I usually hum while working and Sachi discovered that I can weave a tune.  One night, his then girlfriend at the time, Ate Marcia, pampered me up.  She cut my hair, put some make-up on me, and dress me up in a casual but nice clothes.  Me, having no idea of their plan, went along.  Suddenly, I found myself standing in front of many people, most of them drunk to even care.  I didn't know what to do that time.  And then I--

Realizing the momentum of his story, Gavin stopped himself.  This time, he couldn't look at Charles.  Not without letting his composure go and eventually crying in front of him.  Not without revealing his identity.  And it is far too early for that revelation.

"And then what?" Charles insisted, taken from Gavin's story.

Gavin exhaled and continued, but avoided the bomb.

"And then I just sang.  I sang my throat out and funnily enough, people liked it.  After that night, people started crowding this resto-bar.  Sachi decided that I belong in the stage.  I disagreed.  So, we came upon a compromise.  Every night that I sing, he would pay me, and when I earn enough money, I would be co-owner.  He foolishly agreed.  But it's all good.  He knew what he's getting at.  Here I am now, two years later.  Haven't sung in a while though."

Charles smiled, forgetting about his suspicion.  Thinking he could really see Gavin.  Gavin De Guzman, his housemate.  Gavin returned his smile.  Seemingly entering a trance, their two hearts synced once again, like all those years before, struggling to find their way back to each other.  Delving deeper into Gavin's eyes, Charles saw a flashing image--a boy?  He wasn't sure for everything was blurry.  He heard a voice.  A familiar but unreachable voice.  I'll find you, I promise.

Charles diverted his eyes, pushing away the blurry image and voice. 

"D'you wanna come here tonight and hear me sing?" Gavin invited.

Smiling kindly, Charles refused the invitation by shaking his head.

"Oh, com'on.  It'll be fun." Gavin insisted.

"Sorry. I-I'm not that comfortable around too many people." Charles said, deciding to unravel his faulty programming.  They'll be living together anyway.  It's good to bring it up early to avoid situations like his earlier fancy restaurant fiasco.

"Oh, okay." Gavin said, head nodding.  Right.  He always forgets that detail.  Why is that?  Gavin sighed in thought.  Suddenly, an idea enveloped him.  "Then, I'll sing to you now."

"What?"

Gavin smiled, calling out the bartender whose name is Kevin, and asked him to get his guitar.  After a few minutes, the bartender returned.  Gavin glanced at Charles and positioned himself center-stage--the streak of sunlight highlighting the side of his face, giving him a divine-like aura.  Charles sat upright, readying his ears to listen.

Gavin strummed the guitar and the once separate chords was transformed into a melancholy melody.  To Charles, the melody speaks of a lost memory rushing its way back.  Urging on, like an angry tide to a large cemented wall.  To Gavin, the song is a reminder of his promise to Charles, of his love for Charles.  Never fading, even with experiencing cracks along the way.  

Gavin started to sing--every lyric of the song, he is weaving to form a bridge.  Let me in.  I won't stop, Charles.  Until I find you.  Until you come home to me.  Until this song reaches you.

The two young man locked eyes, the throbbing of their hearts separate but in harmony.  As if singing.  As if the song had sheltered them both from the hurricane of misfortune and choices.  As if their hearts know something the both of them don't.

And Charles, for the first time since the tragedy, let go of his control, and cried his heart out.  Each tear filling up the void inside.

Two separate hearts beating--both are broken.  Finding safe haven in each other's keeping.