The Passion House

I

Chaos. 

If there is a word that best describes what is currently happening in my life, that will be chaos. It is raining heavily outside and I am riding a bus towards my parent’s house in my hometown, Viewmonte. Nothing much happened actually, my bestselling book has been accused of being plagiarized, my company hasn’t taken the time to investigate and are deciding whether to fire or file a complaint against me, and my boyfriend of 7 years has told me that he wants to stop everything between us. What a lucky life, huh?

A phone call wakes me up from my reverie. It is from my manager, Trisha. A text message from her arrives a few moments later. I do not want to read her message but accidentally, while I have been swiping to remove it from my notifications, it pops out.

From: Trisha

Girl! Where are you? Your fans are waiting here at the lobby of Oceanea Suites and Casino for 3 hours now!

Another one follows,

From: Trisha

They are here to support you! Do you plan to not show up at your book-signing event? Are you out of your mind?! Are you confirming those allegations?!

I roll my eyes at her messages, turn my phone off, and put it inside my bag. As if you even care! I want to shout on her face but I don’t want to come out as an immature and unsophisticated b***h. It is best to ignore, Amy. She is a backstabbing w***e.

I let out a sigh. Trisha has been a good friend to me, that has been what I have always believed. She is the one who has told me to pursue writing and even volunteered to be my manager. She has been a great friend - might even consider as my bestie but as cliche as it may sound, my boyfriend has cheated on me with her, not only once but throughout the last 2 years of our relationship, he has been secretly seeing her.

I mean, Guys! Can’t you all be more creative in breaking someone’s heart?

My tears start to fall again. The same way the rain has been pouring outside the bus window. Heavy, strong, and trying to wash away the footprints of other people from the road. Just like how I want to erase their existence from my life, too - that is if the rain thinks of it that way, too. The sky is dark and cloudy, the same way as how I now see my future will be. I let myself cry out alongside the lightning and thunders roaring from the heavens. I feel comforted with crying along with the rain. It is as if it shares my pain, too. It is as if it understands me. I no longer care about what the other passengers think about me crying. I do not even care if some of them know me. She's a successful romance writer at 24 but she turns out to be a plagiarizing diva. The hell I care! I have not done it! I have never…

For now… 

I just want to see my mom…

I have not noticed that I have fallen asleep on the bus but after a few hours of travel, a co-passenger wakes me up from my sleep. He says that we have finally arrived at the terminal. I thank him and drag myself out of my seat. I have been occupying the chairs next to the last row on the left and the entrance/exit door is upfront. I have already informed my family that I will be coming home. Honestly, I can’t wait to get off the bus and see my mom outside, waiting for me and bring me home. The bus aisle seems so long as we, the passengers, slowly walk out the door. There are people from different walks of life, too. Some toddlers, sleeping or awake, are being carried by their parents in their arms, and some old people are also slowly walking out from the bus. I realized, The world is full of different kinds of people, but we are all meant to get off the bus when the right time comes, too.

If you know what I mean.

When I have exited the premises of the bus terminal, I immediately see my mom beside her light blue mini cooper Volkswagon on the parking lot, waiting for me. She is a 48 years old brunette with bright hazel eyes, a good 5 ft in height, petite, a big smile on her face, and definitely, pretty even without make-up. They say I look a lot like her. Only, I’m a little bit taller- around 5’2 in feet and I have silver eyes which I have inherited from my father.

She shouts, “My Baby!” when she lays her eyes on me and opens her arms, the way mothers usually do when they make their child go to them when they are teaching them how to walk, and I, a loving daughter, call out to her, too, “Mom!” and runs for an embrace, I feel her kiss the side of my head as she puts one of her hands behind it, caressing. I almost want to cry again. I have sensed that my mom knows about what has happened. Well, it is all over the national news. It has also been considered the biggest scandal in the creators’ section. She does not ask me about it though. After we have hugged each other for quite a while, she takes my luggage away and put it inside the car’s baggage area.

“So, how was your trip, my dear?” she asks me when we have gotten inside the car.

“As usual, mom. I fell asleep.” she giggles as she buckled her seatbelt and starts the car’s engine. “It was raining along the way. I’m quite amazed about how hot it is here.” I tell her. True, The City of Viemonte is about 300 km away from San Lozano City, the place where I have decided to build my career but also where I have ruined it. The sudden shift of weather does give me quite a feeling of entering a different dimension.

My mom makes the car run, leaving the parking lot, and I look at her. It has been 8 years since I last come here. For the past few years, it is she who often visits me in San Lozano and we will hang out there. Back then, I have left this place in hopes to chase a brighter future. Now, I have gone back because that dream is almost impossible to attain.

She has gotten older since I last saw her, I figured. “How have you been, mom?” I asked.

“Nothing much, sweetheart,” she smiles while driving. “Andrew has been busy lately, so I’m mostly alone at home. I’m happy that you have decided to come back and stay for a while.”

”Me, too, mom.” I reply. But it would have been nicer if I went home in my own accord, mom. The time when there was no scandal. The one when I would just go home for a vacation and there was no stain on my name. I look away as I feel myself get teary-eyed again and decides to observe the streets. 

A lot has changed for the past 8 years, the used to be simple, peaceful, and quiet community has evolved drastically due to globalization. Skyscrapers are now racing to reach the heavens. Overpasses and flyovers are also helping the drivers be free of unwanted traffic. The roads are now widened up to 8 lanes but people now look like everyone is in a rush.

“Mom?” I start when a rather unfamiliar hotel got my attention once we’re up on the overpass. “Is that a new hotel? I don’t think I have seen that before.”

“Oh no, Darling. That’s The Passion House. They have been operating for a long time now. You might have just forgotten. You were still a child back then and we don’t pass through that street often. Do you want to check it out?” Before I know it, my mom stirs the steering wheel when we reached the end of the flyover, driving towards the street just outside The Passion House.

For me to say that The Passion House is grand will be an understatement. It quite surprises me how it doesn’t occur to me that such a grandiose hotel exists at the center of the city. From the street crossing, it should be considered that it takes quite a while to reach the main entrance. The long and high gates that covered the entire area of the entire relaxing point are painted in White marble and Gold iron grills. I’m sure that it’s not real and pure marble and gold because it is too expensive if it rounds an entire 10-15 hectares of land area. Yes, it is that big.

It took a while for us to reach the main gate and it is as huge as it can be. My mom has decided to park our car on the side street opposite the main entrance of the hotel four us to have a good view of the building. The gates are almost 10 meters high and painted with gold while the foundations on the side are in marble with golden dragon statues are tuck on them. No matter how grand the gates are though, it never equals the beauty of the building behind it.

The Passion House stands meters away from the entrance in all its glory. Although it is not as tall as the Burj Khalifa in Dubai nor is it as modernized as the one in Singapore, this hotel could have been one of the most beautiful in the world if only it has been marketed that way. It only has three floors but the building land area is so wide I’m afraid I will give a poor measurement based on eyes. It looks like a fusion of the white house and a grand Muslim Mosque due to its pillar-ed design as found outside the building and series of dome-like roofs. Also, it is painted in white and the details are in gold. The hotel gives off a luxurious and unearthly vibe as if Heaven has come on earth.

“Wow,” is all I can mutter. I still can’t believe that such a place exists in the city. The beauty before me leaves me speechless and allured, my mother’s giggle wakes me up from my reverie as she starts the car.

“Let’s go visit, next time. I heard that there is a very famous bar in it. Men and women of all ages go there to have fun. We should check it out someday.” She winks at me as she drives our way towards our home.

When we arrived at our house, I immediately went to my room to sleep.