Even in weekend, the coffee shop was packed with groups of people. I think most of the customers now are in college. They are not wearkng a uniform but their id's are hanging on their neck. As usual, boys are half of the population here.
When i entered the shop, the bell hanged on the door, rings. The shop was filled with a relaxing music coming from the speakers sticks on the walls.
At first no one noticed my presence but as I stand to get in line, my name slowly travels through their mouths.
"Isn't that Sharika Miraflor? The one who won the pageant last year?"
"Oh! It's Sharika. You know, I saw her last time, and she's as gorgeous as hell!"
Praises after my name echoed in my ears. I didn't mind them and try to act cool even though I heard every single thing they say. If the boys wer
