It started with a simple, offhand comment.
“Gusto mo mag-drive?” Andrè asked while brushing his teeth, his voice muffled by the foam. “Yung kahit saan lang.”
It was 11:37 PM.
We had just finished watching a movie neither of us understood, eaten leftover chicken adobo with rice straight from the pan, and were supposed to be getting ready for bed. But there was something about the way the night stretched out—silent, open, promising—that made the idea of a random drive sound perfect.
Ten minutes later, we were in the car.
No destination. No plan. Just the hum of the engine, the quiet city streets, and a half-full tumbler of iced coffee I insisted on bringing kahit obvious namang malamig na sa labas.
“Any requests?” he asked, glancing at me as he connected his phone to the car's Bluetoot
