Objection

Chapter Eight

Mariella woke up with her head pounding like the drumline of the UE marching band. The Saturday morning sunlight stabbed through her window like it had a personal vendetta. Her tongue felt fuzzy, her stomach was plotting revenge, and her soul had already resigned from her body.

The hangover was biblical.

She groaned, slapped her forehead, and reached for her phone, half-expecting to see a notification from someone named Paul.

Zero new messages.

“Coward,” she mumbled into her pillow.

Then, like a masochist, she opened Tinder. The screen glared back at her. And there, in her own words, sat the digital equivalent of self-immolation.

Ariella: Also, the offer still stands.

Ariella: No actually, the offer is only for you so you might as well grab it while you can and I promise you, I am clean. I do general check-ups every year, I won’t give you STD. I haven’t even had s*x yet and you my friend will be the lucky first.

Mariella threw her phone across the bed like it was contagious. “I’m never drinking beer again.”

By noon, she had showered, put on sunglasses like armor, and met Nancy and Elliot at their usual coffee spot in SM Manila.

Nancy eyed her over her caramel macchiato. “You look like you fought a jeepney and lost.”

Mariella groaned. “Worse. I sexually harassed a man who might not exist.” She slid her phone across the table.

Elliot gasped, snatched it up like it was treasure. “Let me see this historical artifact.”

As they read, Nancy’s jaw dropped while Elliot started wheezing like a dying hyena.

“Girl,” Elliot shrieked, “you offered your maiden voyage to a fake Paul Razon? You told him you’re clean like you’re applying for a job at Mercury Drug?”

“Shut up,” Mariella hissed. “It’s a fake account. There’s no way the real Paul Razon would even download Tinder.”

Nancy looked thoughtful. “You’re the only one who got a reply. Everyone I know said that profile’s a ghost. Me and Elliot swiped right. No match.”

Elliot snorted. “Well, maybe he likes desperate energy. This thread is hot. He’s cross-examining you like he’s trying to win you as Exhibit A.”

“It’s called staying in character,” Mariella protested. “He’s pretending to be Paul Razon, the man literally built from arrogance and bar exam prep.”

“Semantics,” Elliot waved her off. “Anyway, this is a negotiation gone stale. You made your offer. He hasn’t countered. What you need, my darling prude, is a closer.”

Mariella’s eyes went wide. “Elliot. Don’t you dare.”

But Elliot was already typing, grinning like Lucifer with Wi-Fi.

Ariella: Hey, Counsel. My body says it’s ready for litigation. You better decide soon. I don’t wait for affidavits.

Mariella lunged. “Elliot! I’m going to change my major to Paralegal Studies just to disown you.”

Elliot held the phone high. “Relax, Ariella. We’re just providing a definitive deadline pursuant to Rule 15. You sounded pathetic. I made you sound empowered.”

Nancy giggled. “Honestly, Ariella does sound less tragic than Mariella.”

They waited. Ate lunch. Watched a movie. Ate again.

Four hours later, nothing.

Nancy sighed. “Told you. You scared off the poser. Too much heat for a fake lawyer to be.”

“Good,” Mariella muttered, though she felt the tiniest sting of disappointment. “He’s boring anyway.”

Back at Mariella’s apartment that night, the three were watching Bridges of Madison County when her phone buzzed.

“Speak of the devil,” Elliot said, grabbing it first.

It was him.

Paul: I’ll pass. I don’t f**k strangers, especially those who offer… services based on an identity mix-up.

Mariella groaned. “See? Mr. Moral Compass himself. Delete. Delete the app.”

Elliot’s eyes gleamed. “Oh no. We’re doubling down. He just opened the floor for rebuttal.” His thumbs flew.

Ariella: You think I’m a stranger? Please. I’m a delicacy. You have no idea what you’re missing. I’m not offering services. I’m offering enlightenment. Call me, Mr. Razon. We can debate pro bono.

“Elliot,” Mariella yelped. “You are disbarred.”

Elliot smirked. “Objection overruled.” He pasted her number at the end and hit send.

Ariella: That’s my actual number. I’m waiting for your call. Don’t be a coward.

Mariella gawked. “You just gave him my number? I’m changing it tomorrow.”

Elliot leaned back smugly. “Too late. The ball’s in the esteemed counsel’s court. We’re simply presenting evidence with flair.”

Nancy, ever the voice of reason, nodded sympathetically. “To be fair, Mariella, having s*x is good with the right partner. It’s worth the gamble.”

Elliot snorted. “Good? Nancy, please. It is heaven. If Jonas couldn't make you wet, maybe this guy will.”

Mariella dropped her face into her hands. “You two are demons.”

“Correct,” Elliot said, sipping his drink. “But at least we’re entertaining ones.”