The Actor's Instant Family

TRISTIAN TRES CARBONELLE “Mako! Halika na, kakain na!” A woman's voice echoed inside my head, followed by the sound of her laughter. It was warm. Familiar. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear children laughing too. Their voices mixed with hers, creating a kind of warmth that made something inside my chest ache. Then the laughter slowly disappeared. The woman's voice returned, but this time, she was crying. “Mako…” I couldn't see her face. I couldn't even see where I was. All I could feel was her arms wrapped tightly around me, as if she never wanted to let go. Then she whispered against my ear. “Mahal na mahal kita, Mako…” “F*ck!” I woke up abruptly, my entire body jerking beneath the sheets. I immediately sat up and pressed a hand against my head as a sharp pain pulsed through my skull. My breathing was heavier than usual, and for several seconds, I stared at the wall in front of me. I blinked several times, trying to shake off whatever the hell that was. I couldn't remember the dream. Not even a single detail. I knew I had been dreaming. I knew there had been a woman's voice, children's laughter, and someone calling me by a name that wasn't mine. But the moment I tried to remember what I had seen, everything disappeared. Nothing. I frowned. There was supposed to be something there. A memory. A face. A voice. Something. Pero wala. The harder I tried to remember, the more frustrated I became. Yet despite not remembering anything, I could still feel it. That strange emptiness inside my chest. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and I hated it. Parang may kulang. Parang may nawala sa akin. But I didn't even know what I was supposed to be looking for. “F*ck it!” Muli akong nagmura at agad na tumayo mula sa kinahihigaan ko. I didn't bother taking a hot shower. I went straight into the bathroom and turned the shower knob all the way to cold. The moment the freezing water hit my skin, I sucked in a breath. Good. That's exactly what I needed. I stayed underneath the cold shower longer than necessary, letting the water wash away the lingering headache and whatever strange feeling the dream had left behind. By the time I stepped out, I felt better. I quickly changed into a simple shirt and pants before grabbing my watch from the bedside table. I had a shooting at twelve. I couldn't afford to waste the morning thinking about some stupid dream I couldn't even remember. As soon as I stepped out of my room, my phone started ringing. I reached into my pocket and pulled it out. The moment I saw the name flashing on the screen, I immediately answered. Mom. “Hey, Mom. Morning.” “Hi, son. Where are you na?” I frowned. “What—” Then I remembered. “Oh, right. Diyan nga pala ako mag-breakfast.” I glanced at the time and rubbed the back of my neck. “I'll get ready in a bit, Mom, pero di ako magtatagal, ah. I have a shooting at twelve.” There was a brief silence on the other end before my mother's familiar sigh reached me. “Hmp. Puro ka trabaho na naman.” I couldn't help but smile. “That's literally my job, Mom.” “Job? You call barely sleeping and forgetting to eat a job?” “I'm fine.” “You always say that.” I rolled my eyes as I walked toward the living room. My mother had always been like this. Overprotective. Always checking where I was, what I had eaten, whether I had slept enough. And honestly, I couldn't blame her. The last time I didn't answer my phone, she had driven straight to my condo, terrified and crying because she thought something had happened to me. She thought I was... missing again. I pushed the thought away. I didn't want to remember that. Not this morning. Especially not after that strange dream. I grabbed my keys from the table and glanced at myself in the mirror near the door. For a second, I caught my own reflection. Same face. Same eyes. Same Tristian Tres Carbonelle. Everything was normal. So why the hell did I still feel like I had left a piece of myself somewhere I couldn't remember? Pagpasok na pagpasok ko pa lang sa bahay, dinig na dinig ko na agad ang ingay mula sa sala. Someone was crying. Someone was complaining. And judging by the familiar voice trying to defend himself, I already had a pretty good idea who was responsible. Dos. My older brother had a special talent for turning a peaceful morning into complete chaos. I stepped into the living room and immediately saw Tash crying on the couch while Kuya Juan tried to calm her down. Beside them, Ayah was also sobbing, her little face red from crying. And in front of them stood Dos, holding a box of crayons and looking completely innocent. Which, knowing him, meant he was probably guilty. I slowly shook my head. “Dos…” He looked at me. “What?” “What did you do?” “Nothing.” I raised an eyebrow. “Then why are the kids crying?” He immediately pointed at the coloring book lying on the table. “I swear, hindi ko alam ba't sila nag-iiyak.” I walked closer and looked at the page. It was supposed to be a picture of a beautiful princess wearing a pink dress. Except the princess's dress was colored green, her hair was blue, and her face was bright orange. I stared at it. Then I looked at Dos. “Why is the princess green?” “Because I like green, representing nature.” “Why is her hair blue?” “I ran out of black.” I picked up one of the crayons from the table. “You had black right here.” He glanced at it. “Oh.” I had to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing. Tash suddenly pointed at the coloring book while crying harder. “Tito Dos ruined my princess!” “I didn't ruin it!” Dos protested. “I improved it!” “You colored her face orange!” “She's supposed to have a tan!” “She looks like a carrot!” I snorted. Dos looked offended. “That's a very beautiful princess carrot.” “Dos,” Kuya Juan warned, clearly trying not to laugh himself. “What? Kuya naman, art is subjective.” I shook my head and looked at the second coloring book. That one belonged to Ayah. Pati anak niya hindi pinatawad sa kalokohan niya. I opened it. A picture of a cute little bunny stared back at me. Its body was purple. Its ears were yellow. And someone had drawn a ridiculous pair of sunglasses over its face. I slowly turned toward Dos. “Seriously?” He smiled proudly. “That's Ayah's bunny.” Ayah immediately pointed at the page. “Dada made my bunny ugly!” “Hey!” Dos protested. “Your bunny is cool!” “No!” “It's wearing sunglasses!” “I don't like it!” She burst into another round of tears. I couldn't hold it anymore. I laughed. “Sorry,” I said, trying to compose myself. “I'm sorry.” Kuya Juan finally gave Dos a light smack on the back of his head. “Aray! Kuya!” “Bakit ba kasi pinapakialaman mo ang coloring book ng mga bata?” “I was helping them!” “You colored everything wrong!” “There is no wrong color!” I crossed my arms. “That's true.” Dos pointed at me triumphantly. “See?” “But,” I added, “you don't have to turn a princess into a carrot.” His face fell. “Traitor.” Before I could say anything else, Ayah suddenly jumped off the couch. “Toto Tres!” She ran toward me, her little feet moving as fast as they could. “Ayah, careful—” I barely had time to react before she stumbled. I quickly caught her before she could fall and scooped her into my arms. She immediately wrapped both arms around my neck and buried her face against my shoulder. “Toto Tres…” I rubbed her back gently. “Hmm?” “Dada bad.” I glanced at my older brother. Dos placed a hand over his chest. “Wow. After everything I've done for you, my princess?” Ayah peeked over my shoulder and shook her head. “Bad Dada.” Tash immediately joined in. “Bad Tito!” Dos stared at the two children in disbelief. "Sumbong kita kay Momma!" At doon namutla ang kapatid ko. Dali-dali niyang kinuha sa akin si Ayah. "You know anak, remember that bike you were talking about, the one with barbie and glitters..." Napailing ako nang ipinanik niya si Ayah bago pa sumulpot ang asawa niya at makatikim siya ng sabunot kay V. Iiling-iling akong lumapit kay Tashia na tumigil na sa pag-iyak, naalo na ni Kuya Juan. "Can I eat two ice cream today, Tatay?" "Hmmm, it depends with Nanay kung papayag." Napanguso si Tashia at naglalambing na nangunyapit sa leeg ni Kuya Juan. "You should talk to Nanay, please?" Natawa si Kuya Juan at binuhat siya. "Fine, but you should finish your breakfast today. Deal?" "Deal!" hagikhik ni Tashia na sumulyap sa akin at nagpababa kay Kuya Juan bago nanakbo sa akin at umakap sa binti ko. Napangiti naman ako at agad siyang kinarga. "Toto Tres, I miss you!" "Miss you too, Tashia. How are you?" "I'm good..." Then Tashia started talking about everything that happened to her in the past days. Kung anong ikinatahimik ng Kuya Juan, siyang ikinadaldal ni Tashia. Hindi ko rin naman masasabing nagmana sa asawa ni Kuya, mas akmang sabihing nagmana sa kakambal kong si Portia. "Andiyan ka na pala, Tres," masuyong ngiti ni Marie na bitbit si Nathaniel na humihikab pa. Ang antukin kong pamangkin. "Hi, Toto," saad nito sa mahinang boses. Lumapit ako at ginulo ang buhok niya. "Oh andiyan na pala si Tres, we're now complete-" Natigil sa pagsasalita si Mommy nang may kumatok sa pinto. Si Kuya Juan ang nagbukas. It's our guard, Kuya Roy. "Sir! Sir!" "What is it, Kuya Roy?" "Eh kasi sir, may tao ho sa labas eh. Binatilyo, may bitbit na bata. Nagpupumilit na makausap si Sir Tres." Kumunot ang noo ko. "What? Sino raw siya? At paano siyang nakapasok sa village?" "Eh sir, mukhang umeskapo eh--" "Tres Carbonelle!" malakas na sigaw sa pangalan ko. "Toy! Sinabi nang bawal kang pumasok-" Isang malakas na pag-iyak ng isang bata ang biglang umalingawngaw sa buong bahay. The sound was so loud and desperate that I couldn't just stay where I was. I immediately stepped out of the living room after handing Tashia to Kuya Juan. I barely made it a few steps when I heard hurried footsteps behind me. Mommy and the others followed, clearly just as confused about what was happening. The moment I reached the foyer, I stopped. A young man was standing by the front door, breathing heavily as if he had run all the way there. And in his arms was a child. A little boy. He was unusually pale, his tiny face almost colorless, and his cheeks were wet from crying. He looked sick. His body was trembling as he clung desperately to the young man's shirt. I frowned and immediately stepped forward. “Who are you?” The young man looked at me. Then he carefully adjusted the child in his arms. “Hindi na mahalaga kung sino ako,” he said, his voice strained from exhaustion. “Ang mahalaga ay maibigay ko sa'yo si Makmak.” I stared at him. “Makmak?” He nodded. “Anak mo.” My brows immediately pulled together. “What?” I heard Mommy gasp behind me. “What the hell are you talking about?” I demanded. “I don't even know—” The child's crying suddenly grew louder. His little body began trembling violently, and his hands tightened around the young man's shirt. Then, without warning, the crying stopped. Completely. My stomach dropped. “s**t!” Kuya Juan immediately rushed forward. “I think the kid's having a hard time breathing!” He quickly took the child from the young man's arms and held him securely against his chest, gently patting his back. “Come on, little guy. Breathe. That's it. Breathe.” “Makmak!” The young man stepped forward, panic written all over his face. I couldn't move. I was staring at the child in my brother's arms, completely unable to process what was happening. My son? How could he possibly be my son? I didn't even remember having a child. I didn't even remember knowing his mother. “M-may sakit ang anak mo…” the young man finally said, his voice trembling. “Ipagamot mo siya.” He slowly turned around, clearly intending to leave. “Wait!” Before I could stop him, Portia suddenly appeared beside us. I hadn't even noticed her coming down the stairs. “Wait! Paano namin malalaman na anak talaga ni Kuya 'yung bata?” The young man stopped. He looked over his shoulder, his expression tired and almost bitter. “Mayaman kayo,” he said. “Uso naman ang DNA test sa inyo.” Portia's eyes narrowed. “Asan ang mommy ng bata?” He froze. The entire room seemed to fall silent. For several seconds, he didn't answer. His shoulders slowly began to shake. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely audible. “Patay na si…” He swallowed hard. His eyes dropped to the floor. “…Ate.” I felt something tighten inside my chest. He turned around to face us. “Ang nanay ni Makmak.” Nobody said anything. I looked at the little boy again. Kuya Juan was still gently patting his back, trying to help him breathe. The child's tiny fingers were curled against my brother's shirt, his face still frighteningly pale. And for some reason, I couldn't look away from him. I didn't know this child. I couldn't remember him. I couldn't even remember the woman who had given birth to him. But as I watched him lying helplessly in my brother's arms, that same strange emptiness I had felt after waking up this morning suddenly returned. Only this time, it wasn't just an empty feeling. It was a pain I couldn't explain. A pain that made absolutely no sense. Because according to this stranger standing in front of me... the little boy was my son. And his mother was dead.