Vito told me to bring Andrè home. As in, pinilit talaga ako. He was so adamant na parang gusto niya kaming i-exorcise from the club. Naging suspicious tuloy ako. Sinabi niyang ipahatid daw kami sa driver niya at siya na raw ang bahala sa sasakyan ni Andrè—ipa-park daw niya sa condo.
I didn’t ask anymore. Wala na rin akong energy maglaro ng detective. I was more worried about Andrè, lalo na nang mapansin ko na may putok sa gilid ng labi niya.
Excuse me? I was gone for ten minutes! TEN. MINUTES. Hindi pa 'yun sapat pang-retouch, pero ayan, may fight club na pala! Sino na naman ang nasapian?!
“Thank you po,” I told Vito’s driver, who kindly helped me carry this six-foot-tall baggage all the way up to his unit. I was panting. Not romantically, ha—like, literal hingal from lifting dead weigh
