The Assist

Chapter 4

I wasn't supposed to check my phone first thing in the morning.

It was a rule I made for myself para hindi ako ma-burnout. Pero the moment I opened my eyes and saw the notification on my lockscreen, everything else blurred.

@liam.ramirez sent you a message.

Tangina.

I sat up in bed, my heart doing that annoying flutter it only does when I’m about to say something stupid on the pod—or when he’s involved.

I opened i********:, dreading and anticipating whatever it was he sent.

Liam Ramirez:

Thanks for the public execution. If I die, at least I died sexy.

PS: You have a great voice. Too bad it’s used for murder.

My mouth dropped open, then curved into a smirk I didn’t ask for.

He was unbelievable.

Flirty. Sarcastic. Obviously fishing for a reply.

I shouldn’t have entertained it. Alam kong kapag binigyan ko pa siya ng attention, it would only get worse.

Pero hindi ko napigilan.

Me:

You walked into that studio willingly. Murder was self-defense.

A second later, he replied.

Liam:

Oh, I’m not complaining. I like girls who can kill with words. Keeps me on my toes.

I stared at the message for a solid minute.

Then locked my phone.

Then unlocked it.

Then stared again.

What was his angle? Was this his version of revenge? Getting under my skin until I lost control?

Kasi if that was the game—he was winning.

Big time.

That whole day, I tried to act normal. Tumuloy pa rin ako sa classes. Nagbasa ng readings. Nakinig sa lecture about communication ethics while internally screaming.

But every time my phone buzzed and I saw his name, my focus shattered.

Liam:

Do your podcast fans know you scrunch your nose when you're thinking?

It’s cute. Very mouse-villain of you.

Liam:

Should I be worried you haven’t replied in 3 hours? Or is this your version of ghosting?

Liam:

I’m starting to think you like the attention.

Gusto ko siyang sabunutan.

Gusto ko ring malaman kung bakit ang saya niya kausap.

Hindi ito gaya ng usual conversations ko with other guys. Most varsity types were all bark, all ego. Pero si Liam? He matched me blow for blow. And beneath the teasing, may something eh—an edge, a spark, I couldn’t name yet.

That night, I caved again.

Me:

You’re persistent. Do you slide into every critic’s DMs? Or ako lang 'tong lucky?

Liam:

Only the ones who look like they hate me and secretly don't.

My heart skipped.

Putangina.

I wasn’t blushing. I was not blushing.

Kai noticed me staring at my phone and groaning against my palm while we were editing next week’s episode.

“Is that him again?” he asked, raising a brow.

I slid my phone away like it burned. “It’s nothing.”

Kai smirked. “Sure. Nothing. That’s why you’ve been smiling like a girl in a K-drama.”

I threw a crumpled sticky note at his face.

But he wasn’t wrong.

Liam Ramirez was annoying, egotistical, and too clever for his own good.

But he was also—

Fun.

Unexpected.

Addictive.

And I hated that part the most.

By midnight, I gave up pretending I wasn’t waiting for his next message.

I turned off the lights in our dorm room, headphones in my ears, blanket pulled up to my chin, pretending I was busy editing our next podcast. Pero sa totoo lang, naka-open pa rin 'yung chat thread namin ni Liam. Waiting. Anticipating.

Which was insane. I didn’t even like him.

I hated his smug grin.

His too-calm, too-smooth voice.

The way he sat across from me like he owned the damn mic, making everyone in the studio—including Kai—laugh like he was God’s gift to the Green Archers.

And yet, here I was. Thinking about his last message.

"Only the ones who look like they hate me and secretly don't."

Putangina. Sino nagsabing may secret admiration akong tinatago?

I rolled over and typed.

Me:

I don’t secretly like you.

He read it instantly. Of course he did.

Liam:

Then why are you still replying?

Tinarayan ko siya in my head. Because I want to maintain journalistic neutrality, or because I’m being polite.

But the truth sat heavier than any clever comeback.

Because this—whatever this was—was starting to feel like a thing.

A push and pull.

A game I didn’t know I’d signed up for, but somehow… I didn’t want to stop playing.

Me:

Maybe I’m just fascinated by your self-confidence. How do you carry that much ego without tripping?

Liam:

It’s a skill. Took years to master.

Liam:

Also helps that I’m right most of the time.

I rolled my eyes but smiled anyway.

Me:

Delusional confidence is impressive, I’ll give you that.

Liam:

Is that your version of a compliment?

Me:

No. That’s me trying not to block you.

A laughing emoji appeared, followed by another text:

Liam:

You know, I didn’t expect this.

Me:

Expect what?

Liam:

That you’d be more interesting off-mic than on it.

I paused.

That one landed different.

Wala na 'yung sarcastic tone. No flirty undertone either. Just—honest. Bare. Almost soft.

And that scared me more than anything.

Because I’ve been called many things: smart, intense, difficult, even intimidating.

But interesting?

That was new.

And dangerous.

Me:

Goodnight, Ramirez. You’re messing with my editing schedule.

Liam:

Sweet dreams, Dela Cruz. Try not to dream of me too much.

I shut my phone off and buried it under my pillow.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

I was supposed to roast him, school him on mic, and move on with my life. Not flirt. Not laugh. And definitely not lie awake wondering what he’d say next.

Pero eto na naman ako.

Wide awake at 1AM.

Smiling into my pillow.

Damn it.