Unhinged

Chapter Five

The morning of the opening felt like the mountain was humming.

Sophia woke up before her alarm, staring at the ceiling of her suite as sunlight slid through the floor-to-ceiling windows and spilled across her bed. Outside, the waterfalls of Madanunan roared softly, a constant, regal soundtrack.

She grabbed her phone.

Fourteen group chats.Thirty-two unread emails.Three missed calls from Metroline producers.One message from Matt.

Matt: Relax. You are brilliant. Put on something dramatic. We go live at nine.

She grinned.

Sophia: On it. Prepare your scalp. I am going to stress you later.

There was a knock on the connecting door.

Dominic stuck his head in, hair wrapped in a towel like a queen in a skincare commercial. “Good morning, you corporate fairy.”

Sophia yawned. “What time is it.”

“Too early for capitalism, but here we are. Opening day. History. Emotions.”

She sat up, heart already racing. “Dominic, this is it.”

He stepped fully into her room, draping himself on the armchair. “Yes, this is it. The day you officially become the duchess of Madanunan Branding. Now move. Shower, glam, conquer.”

By ten o’clock, the resort was vibrating with movement.

Staff in pristine uniforms glided through corridors.Security teams checked earpieces.Florists rushed last-minute arrangements into place.Metroline cameras were positioned in every flattering angle the mountain possessed.

Sophia stood in the temporary command room beside the lobby, wearing a perfectly tailored cream blazer dress and heels that meant business. Screens lined the walls, each one showing a different part of the resort.

“Media holding area ready,” one of the junior staff reported.

“International press tagged and escorted,” another added.

“Influencers?” Sophia asked, scanning her tablet.

“Mostly here. A few are late.”

“Of course.” Sophia sighed. “Tell them they missed the pre-opening content opportunities. Scarcity is branding.”

She checked the schedule.

Ribbon cutting at eleven.Welcome luncheon at one.Media tour at three.Soft opening of the casino at six.Elysium club event from nine p.m. to late.

“Okay,” she declared. “We stick to the script but pretend it is effortless.”

“That is your specialty,” Dominic murmured from the couch, where he was live-tweeting the day like a one-man gossip channel.

On one of the screens, the front drive flashed into view.

Black SUVs.Luxury sedans.A vintage sports car that looked like it had opinions.

“Here they come,” Dominic sang. “The rich. The powerful. The ones who think Wi-Fi is a human right.”

Government officials stepped out first, flanked by staff. Then came foreign ambassadors, luxury-brand executives, and familiar celebrity faces. Stylists fussed with hemlines. Sunglasses were adjusted. Photographers snapped like a storm.

Sophia’s pulse sped up.

This was what she lived for.

She watched as Simon Jimenez appeared on screen, calm, composed in a dark suit that looked like it cost more than her entire shoe collection. Beside him, Arturo and Beatriz Jimenez carried the calm weight of old power. Olivia hovered near the doors, efficient and unflustered, briefing staff between guests.

Nearby, the Ardent Lex group arrived, suits sharp, expressions serious. Somewhere among them probably was Christoph Richter and Alex’s other partners. Sophia registered the cluster of tall foreign-looking men briefly, then returned to her checklist.

Legal people were not part of her mood board.

“Ready audio?” she asked the tech beside her.

“Yes, ma’am. We are streaming to Metroline, Horizon’s socials, and the official Madanunan feeds.”

The ribbon-cutting ceremony began outside. The room around her quieted as everyone watched the screens.

A golden ribbon stretched across the main steps.The Madanunan logo gleamed behind it like a promise.

Reporters murmured in reverent tones.

“Today marks the opening of the most ambitious luxury development in Northern Luzon…”

Sophia crossed her arms, breath held without realizing it.

Simon spoke first. On the screen, his voice carried with the easy authority of a man who rarely repeated himself. He thanked partners, dignitaries, local communities. He spoke of sustainability, employment, and a future where Ilocos Norte would stand alongside the world’s most iconic destinations.

Then the camera cut to regional and national leaders, each taking turns with neat, rehearsed lines.

In another screen, the crowd waited, dressed in couture and power.

In another, Alan Walker’s team tested lights in the dome, strobes flashing faintly even under the noontime sun.

Dominic looked up from his phone. “Soph, they are eating this up. Twitter is feral. ‘Mountain Monaco’ is trending.”

Her lips curved. “Good.”

The golden scissors were lifted.

Applause roared through the speakers as the ribbon fell in two perfect halves.

Fireworks burst from the ridges, a cascade of glitter against daytime sky.The waterfall lights shimmered even in broad daylight, turning water into liquid crystal.The crowd cheered.

Sophia did not move.

She watched it all from the command room, heart full, expression steady.

She had chosen this.

Not the spotlight.The control room.

Dominic glanced at her. “Do you want to be out there?”

Sophia shook her head, eyes still on the screen. “No. This is better. I get the full view. Like a director watching opening night.”

His smile softened. “You are so dramatic and I support it.”

The rest of the day blurred into a beautiful, exhausting ballet.

She walked the media through the curated tour, her voice steady as she spoke about Ilocano craft, heritage, sustainable engineering, and the promise of the flagship luxury brands arriving in the months ahead. She gave quotes to journalists, laughed with influencers, posed effortlessly for a few photos when asked.

“Sophia, quick sound bite for Metroline,” one producer called.

She turned, hair catching the light, smile easy. “Madanunan Crown is not just a resort. It is a love letter to the North. A place where local stories rise with global standards.”

Dominic dabbed at his eyes off-camera. “Who gave you permission to be this iconic.”

She did not see Simon passing with a cluster of investors behind her. She did not see Christoph fall into step beside him, discussing legal frameworks with quiet intensity.

She was too busy making sure the world fell in love with the mountain.

By early evening, the sun dipped low, setting the ridges on fire.

The glass dome of Elysium glowed against the twilight, like a futuristic planet resting in the valley. Inside, the club was already alive. LED walls pulsed with liquid light. The massive DJ booth stood like a crown above the dance floor. The ceiling panels reflected everything, turning movement into art.

Sophia finally made it into Elysium at nine-thirty, a little breathless, a lot satisfied.

She had changed into a black sequined mini dress with a sharp blazer over it, hair swept into loose waves, lips a soft rose. Dominic wore an emerald suit that glowed under the club lights, earrings catching every flash.

“Okay,” he shouted over the bass of the opening DJ. “If I do not fall in love here tonight, I will sue.”

Sophia laughed, the sound swallowed by the music. “Please focus. We still have work. Matt is doing a live cross with Metroline after Alan’s first set.”

“Work,” Dominic repeated, twirling. “I am working very hard on my aura.”

They moved through the VIP section, greeting a mix of celebrities, content creators, and mild aristocrats of the Manila scene. Camera crews adjusted lenses. Horizon staff checked angles. The energy was crackling, expectant.

Alan Walker’s logo flashed briefly on the screen.

The crowd screamed.

Sophia’s skin prickled.

This was it.

A hand touched her arm lightly.

“Sophia!” Olivia stood beside her, a little flushed from hours on her feet but still perfectly composed. She had traded her daytime uniform for a sleek black jumpsuit with a discreet staff badge.

“You look like a movie,” Sophia said warmly.

Olivia smiled. “So do you. Are you ready? Mr. Elizalde said Alan goes on in ten minutes.”

“Born ready,” Sophia answered. “Where is he?”

“Backstage, arguing lovingly with the sound engineers,” Olivia replied. “Also, I brought someone for you to meet.”

She stepped aside.

Mae appeared, wide-eyed, cheeks glowing under the club lights.

Sophia took her in instantly. Chestnut hair pulled into a high ponytail. Simple black dress. Staff lanyard around her neck. Hope and disbelief in her smile.

“Hi,” Mae said, almost breathless. “I am Mae.”

Dominic looked between them. “Hello Mae! Four is a good number to light up the fire here tonight!”

Mae nodded, eyes bright. “Nice to meet you all!”

Sophia grabbed her hands. “Welcome to the chaos. You are officially one of us.”

They moved together toward the VIP balcony that looked out over the dance floor. Down below, the crowd was a restless sea of silhouettes and anticipation. The waterfall outside glowed electric blue, visible through the glass.

Lights dimmed.

The opening DJ faded out.

A voice echoed over the sound system. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Elysium at Madanunan Crown.”

The crowd roared.

Alan Walker stepped onto the stage, signature hoodie up, mask, headphones on, his outline backlit by a wall of light.

The first notes of “Faded” rang out.

The dome erupted.

Bass rolled through the valley. Holographic visuals of mountains and waterfalls rippled across the LED walls, merging with the real cliffs outside. The cable cars glided silently over the ravine, their windows glowing like floating lanterns.

Sophia forgot to breathe.

“This is insane,” Mae whispered, hands clutching the railing.

“This is branding,” Sophia said, eyes shining. “This is what we built.”

Dominic, already half-dancing, shouted, “If I die tonight, bury me in the skybridge wearing this blazer.”

They screamed the chorus together, their voices swallowed by thousands of others. Cameras panned across the crowd. Metroline’s live feed captured everything: the international DJs, the waterfall of light, the sea of faces, the mad, beautiful audacity of a resort carved out of a mountain.

Sophia glanced at Olivia. She was smiling, eyes wet, watching the dance floor, the music, the life unfolding around her.

“This is your husband’s empire,” Sophia said softly. “Look at what he built for your mountains.”

Olivia’s gaze softened. “He built it for his vision. But tonight it feels like the province is claiming it back.”

Mae sniffed. “I am going to cry again. I just put mascara.”

Dominic handed her a tissue from his pocket like a prepared fairy godmother. “Cry beautifully. We are in 4K.”

As Alan shifted into another popular track, Darkside, Matthew appeared beside them, grin wide.

“Crowd is insane,” he shouted over the music. “Soph, the Metroline feed is solid. Hashtags are climbing. We did it.”

She laughed. “I did it. Do not steal my credit, Elizalde.”

He saluted. “Never. I will only exaggerate it.”

They snapped a quick photo, sweaty and ecstatic. Above, at the largest balcony of the private suites, Simon Jimenez watched the same scene in quieter silence. Beside him, Andrew Lorenzo and Alexander Almeda discussed numbers. Paul Razon watched and listened intently. Christoph Richter listened as well, his sharp green gaze occasionally drifting toward the frenzy under the lights.

Sophia closed her eyes for a second, feeling the beat shudder through her bones.

This was the launch.

Celebrities and politicians and foreign press. International DJs. Metroline’s cameras.The world watching a remote valley blaze to life.

Beside her, Olivia, Mae, and Dominic shouted along to the music, faces lit by neon flashes and joy.

A new friendship had formed in the lobby yesterday morning. Tonight it solidified under the roar of music and light.

Sophia opened her eyes, smiled at them all, and let herself get pulled into the tide of the moment.

Madanunan Crown had opened to the world.