Michaels in Love (English)(BoysLove)

Chapter 19 - Season 1: The Nice Guy

But just as the moment seemed to unfold perfectly, the unexpected happened. The entire internet café plunged into darkness, save for the faint glow emanating from the main server’s monitor. The soft hum of the machines died, replaced by murmurs of frustration from other patrons.

“Damn it!” I muttered under my breath, sighing heavily as I slumped back in my chair. “Why now of all times?”

Reluctantly, I stood and made my way to the counter, where the cashier stood with a flashlight in hand.

“Emil, what about what I was working on? Will my f*******: stay logged in? Someone might mess with it!”

“Don’t worry,” he assured me, his voice calm and practiced. “Once the computer restarts, it will auto-log out of everything—f*******:, other sites, everything.”

“Okay,” I replied with a nod. “How much do I owe you?”

“Fifteen pesos.”

I handed him the money, murmuring my thanks. “Thanks,” I said, though my frustration was still evident in my tone.

I heaved another sigh as I stepped outside. My conversation with niceguy87 had been cut short, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. The questions I hadn’t yet asked hung in the air, unfinished sentences that would have to wait.

“Haaay,” I muttered, starting the walk home. My thoughts shifted to Mike. The whole day had passed without a single message or call from him. Not even a quick check-in. What’s going on with him? I wondered, frustration and worry competing in my chest.

When I finally arrived home, my irritation only grew. The power outage had extended here, too—my house was dark and lifeless, mirroring the unease I felt inside.

I dropped onto the couch, the stillness of the house wrapping around me like an unwelcome blanket. My mind raced with unanswered questions. Where was Mike? Why hadn’t he reached out? Had something happened?

The faint glow of my phone screen offered little comfort as I stared at it, hoping it would light up with his name, his voice message, his words to fill the void.

But there was nothing.

February 10, 2012

The morning sunlight streamed through my window, but the brightness couldn’t shake the heaviness that settled over me when my phone buzzed at 9:00 AM. Vince was calling from New York, and though thousands of miles separated us, the urgency in his voice was palpable.

“Michael, I need to tell you something,” he began, his tone heavy with concern. “It’s about Gino… He’s been confined at the Philippine General Hospital for months now.”

My stomach twisted at his words.

“I’ve been helping him quietly,” Vince continued, his voice cracking slightly, “but he didn’t want anyone to know about his condition. He didn’t want to worry anyone.”

The news hit me like a blow. Gino—one of my closest friends from high school and college—had been suffering in silence, keeping his pain hidden even from those who cared about him most.

“They’re transferring him to San Lazaro Hospital today or tomorrow,” Vince added, his words pressing down on me like lead. “Michael… it’s serious. He’s in critical condition.”

I closed my eyes, a wave of emotions crashing over me. Memories of Gino flooded my mind—his warm laughter, the strength he showed when he came out to our circle of friends three years ago. I remembered how he had confided in us about his relationship with another man, his voice trembling with vulnerability. We had embraced him without hesitation, though deep down, we all knew some of us carried truths we weren’t yet ready to share.

Two years ago, tragedy struck. Gino’s partner, Jude, passed away unexpectedly. Whispers of pulmonary tuberculosis spread, but Gino had never spoken openly about Jude’s illness. The loss had devastated him, yet he carried on, moving back to La Union to continue his studies after the burial.

Now, hearing that Gino was fighting for his life, my heart clenched with both sorrow and urgency. “I’ll go to PGH right away,” I told Vince, already reaching for my bag.

But as I prepared to leave, I realized I didn’t know how to get there. I stopped by the internet café, hoping for directions, and there I found Emil, the cashier, bustling about as he packed his things.

“Michael, who are you visiting at PGH?” Emil asked, his tone curious as he adjusted his bag.

“My friend from La Union,” I replied.

“Wait for me. I’m heading there too—to visit my grandmother,” he said, pausing to run a hand through his hair. “But let me touch up a bit first. I mean, I can’t meet Grandma looking like this, especially when I’ve got a handsome companion tagging along.” He winked, his teasing tone lightening the tension in my chest.

I chuckled. “Well, my companion happens to be beautiful and sexy.”

“Really?” Emil grinned, pulling me into a playful hug. The DOTA boys at the café erupted into laughter and cheers.

“Michael, be careful!” one of them called out. “He might take you somewhere other than PGH!”

Emil shot them a mock-offended look. “Relax, I’m harmless. Right, Michael?”

“Of course, Emil,” I replied, smiling.

Minutes passed as I waited, chatting with Kaloy while he focused on his game. Finally, Emil emerged, looking polished and ready to go.

“Are you done now?” I asked, standing up.

“Just a second. I wouldn’t want my Alden Richards lookalike companion seeing me unprepared,” Emil quipped, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

I rolled my eyes, grinning. “You’re laying it on thick, Emil.”

“Alden, go on and join your date,” Kaloy teased, giving me a playful shove that nearly sent me stumbling into Emil.

“Bro, cut it out!” I said, laughing despite myself.

“Let’s go, Alden,” Emil said with exaggerated flair.

As we stepped outside, I turned to Emil, his radiant smile lighting up the moment. He had become like a brother or sister to me since we first met here in Sampaloc. His humor and warmth had a way of making the world feel a little lighter.

Still, the teasing from Kaloy earlier lingered in my mind. While Emil laughed it off, I hated that they mocked him. People like Emil deserved to be celebrated, not ridiculed.

As we walked toward the LRT station, Emil broke the silence with words that stayed with me long after: “We need to say, with one voice, that transgender people are valued, that they are loved, and that they are us. All they want is to be treated fairly and equally.”

I nodded, his words settling in my heart like a quiet truth.

Emil led the way, explaining the route. We’d take the LRT from Legarda to Recto, transfer to Doroteo Jose, and get off at Pedro Gil. It was the fastest way to reach PGH. With each step, the weight of urgency pressed heavier on my chest, my mind consumed with thoughts of Gino.

As Emil and I stepped out of Recto Station and made our way to Doroteo Jose, the vibrant chaos of Manila swirled around us. The rhythmic clinking of turnstiles and the hum of conversations filled the air, blending seamlessly with the occasional screech of an approaching train. It was the kind of noise that made the city feel alive, a heartbeat you could feel in your chest.

We joined the stream of commuters at the ticket counter, patiently waiting for our turn to buy LRT cards. Despite the rush of bodies around us, there was a calm between us—a quiet understanding as we prepared for the journey ahead.

When the train finally arrived, its doors slid open, and to our luck, two empty seats greeted us. Emil and I slipped into them quickly, savoring the rare comfort of sitting during the ride.

The train began to move, and we both turned to the window, watching the city unravel like a living mural outside. Buildings blurred into smears of color, and streets teemed with the endless rhythm of life. Suddenly, something massive caught my attention—a towering billboard outside, its striking image impossible to miss.

It was an advertisement for Manchester Gardens City, but it wasn’t the glossy text or sleek design that stole my breath. It was the model—a face I knew so intimately.

Mike.

My heart raced as I stared at the impossibly handsome figure on the billboard.

“Is this really my life?” I wondered, disbelief and joy mingling in my chest. “Is the man up there—the man everyone is looking at—really my boyfriend?”

The thought felt too surreal, like a dream I might wake up from. Yet, if it was true, if Mike truly was mine, I couldn’t imagine asking God for anything more. Just being with him made my heart feel like it might burst with gratitude.

A memory surfaced, softening my smile. Emil, sitting right beside me, had unknowingly been a part of my journey with Mike. He was the one who had given me that fortune cookie—the one that somehow led to meeting Mike for the first time on this very train.

“Thank you, Emil,” I thought, glancing at him with unspoken gratitude. But before I could turn away, Emil caught my gaze and tapped my arm.

“Michael, look at that guy on the billboard!” he exclaimed, pointing excitedly. “Isn’t he the former Ateneo Blue Eagles player?”

I nodded, suppressing a grin. “Yeah. Good-looking guy.”

“You work at Gateway, right?” Emil asked, his curiosity piqued.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Have you ever seen him there?”

“A few times,” I replied, my tone deliberately casual.

“Really?” Emil’s eyes widened. “Are you two friends? Or… something more?”

The question caught me off guard, and before I could stop myself, the truth slipped out.

“He’s my boyfriend,” I mumbled under my breath.

Just as the words left my lips, a sudden commotion erupted in the train. A door had briefly swung open, causing a wave of startled gasps from the passengers.

“What did you just say?” Emil asked, turning to me with wide, startled eyes.

“Uh… I said we’re friends,” I backtracked quickly, hoping he’d buy it.

“Oh, introduce me to him someday!” Emil said with a playful grin. “Whoever his lover is must be so lucky. Haaay, I wish it were me.”

I chuckled, his words amusing me in ways he couldn’t understand. If only Emil knew the man on the billboard was the same man I loved.

“Don’t worry,” I teased. “You’ll find your own handsome boyfriend soon enough.”

“Or maybe it could be you?” Emil joked, his gaze playful as he leaned closer.

“Sorry, but I’m taken,” I replied, laughing softly.

“Lucky girl, whoever she is,” Emil said wistfully.

I coughed to hide my amusement, biting my lip. If only he knew the truth.

“Michael,” Emil said, nudging me again. “See those queers in front of us? They’ve been staring at us this whole time.”

“Really?” I asked, feigning surprise.

“Yes! And you see the one on the far left? She’s the one who stole my gown when I joined Miss Gay in their barangay in Caloocan.”

“What?” I exclaimed, genuinely shocked. “Why would they do that?”

“And that’s not all—they even had me beaten up by some neighborhood thugs after the pageant because I won the title.”

“That’s disgusting,” I said, shaking my head. “Don’t worry. Karma has a way of finding people like that.”

As if on cue, one of them approached us, their grin wide and unnerving. “Hi, handsome,” they said boldly. “I’m Angelica Panganiban.”

I stifled a laugh, forcing myself to stay polite. The person before me looked more like Shrek than an angel, but I managed a straight face. “Angelica? Really?”

“Yes!” they said proudly. “Don’t I look like her?”

I turned to Emil, raising an eyebrow. “Do they?”

“Maybe Angelica’s ingrown toenail,” Emil quipped, earning a sharp glare from “Angelica.”

“Do you have a number, handsome?” Angelica persisted, undeterred. “What’s your name?”

“Michael,” I replied, keeping my tone even.

“Your number?” they pressed again.

“My favorite number?” I joked.

“No, your phone number!”

I glanced at Emil, a mischievous idea sparking in my mind. “Babe,” I said loud enough for the group to hear, “should I give them my number?”

Emil blinked, caught off guard, but quickly caught on. “No, Babe. You promised to stay loyal.”

Angelica’s face fell as they retreated to their seat, muttering. I leaned closer to Emil, whispering, “Don’t look at them. Scoot closer to me.”

I put my arm around him, and Emil leaned into my shoulder. Across from us, the group gawked, their eyebrows shooting up in disbelief.

“Rest your head on my shoulder,” I murmured, grinning. As Emil complied, their irritation was almost comical. They probably thought we were a couple—and honestly, I didn’t mind letting them think that.

As Emil and I stepped off the train at Pedro Gil Station, laughter bubbled between us, spilling out like sunlight after a storm. The ride had been a whirlwind of playful banter and unexpected moments, leaving us both in high spirits. The curious glances and raised eyebrows from other passengers only added to the hilarity, their expressions etched in our memory.

Still smiling, we began our walk toward the Philippine General Hospital. The imposing structure loomed in the distance, its labyrinthine halls a mystery to me. Emil, sensing my unease, placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a wink. “I’ll go with you all the way to the ICU. You’d probably get lost without me.”

I laughed, grateful for his presence. “You’re not wrong. This place is huge.”

The air between us felt light, but as we neared the hospital, the weight of why I was there began to creep in. My chest tightened slightly with each step, the laughter fading as the reality of visiting a critically ill friend settled in.

As we navigated the maze of hallways leading to the ICU, my phone buzzed in my pocket. The vibration was insistent, tugging at my attention. Pulling it out, I glanced at the screen. A wave of warmth washed over me—it was Mike.

“Emil, give me a second,” I said, holding up the phone. “I need to take this.”

“Take your time, Michael,” Emil replied, his smile as comforting as always.

Stepping aside, I pressed the phone to my ear. “Hello, Baby…”

Mike’s voice came through like a balm, warm and tender. “How is my Baby?” he asked, the affection in his tone wrapping around me like a hug.

“I’m here at PGH,” I said, my voice softening instinctively. “Visiting a friend who’s in the ICU.”

“Ah,” he said, his concern evident. “I hope he gets better soon.”

“Me too,” I murmured, a hint of worry lacing my words.

“But I have some good news, Baby…” Mike continued, his voice brightening with excitement.

“What is it?” I asked, a smile tugging at my lips despite the heaviness in my heart. “You’re making me curious.”

“I’m in Manila now, Baby,” he said.

“Really?” My eyes widened, and I felt a surge of joy that momentarily chased away my worries.

“Yup. I’m staying at the Diamond Hotel, just near PGH.”

“Seriously, Baby?” I said, barely able to contain my excitement.

“Yes,” he confirmed, chuckling at my disbelief. “We’re almost done here, but I’m on a 15-minute break. I couldn’t wait to call you.”

My heart swelled, the happiness in his voice contagious. “I love you, my baby,” I said softly, the words spilling out naturally.

“I love you too, my Baby Michael,” he replied, his voice gentle and full of promise. “I’ll call you again later, okay? I just need to finish up with some clients.”

“Okay,” I said, though I couldn’t help the tiny pang of disappointment that our call was so short.

“Michael…” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“Yes?”

“I love you,” he murmured, the words carrying a weight of sincerity that made my heart flutter.

“I love you too,” I replied, my voice just as tender, just as sure.

As the call ended, I stood there for a moment, cradling the phone against my chest. A soft smile lingered on my lips, and my world felt a little brighter, even as the fluorescent lights of the hospital flickered around me.

To be continued…