OUR STORY (BxB)

Chapter 18

-AKIRO-

It's been two days since we returned to the Philippines from Hawaii and wrapped up our album tour. The company gave us a week of rest before we dive back into rehearsals for the upcoming concert leg across Asia.

Most of the members went home to their families. Tomorrow, Tamaro will head back to Cebu—and he's bringing me with him. He wants to introduce me to his family as his boyfriend.

I've grown close to his parents over time, yet a quiet nervousness lingers. The questions won't leave me: What if they can't accept us? What if they don't think I'm right for their son?

I was lost in thought when the doorbell rang. Tamaro had stepped out to buy something, leaving me alone in the dorm.

When I opened the door, my eyes widened at the sight in front of me.

"Mom, Dad!" I rushed toward them, wrapping them both in a tight embrace. The ache of missing them melted into that one moment. When I finally let go, my mom wiped away her tears, and my dad gave my shoulder a reassuring pat.

I guided them inside and invited them to sit on the sofa.

"Where are the others?" Dad asked.

"They went home," I said. "Tamaro stepped out to buy something. He'll be back any minute."

My mom looked at me gently. "Akiro, why didn't you go home?"

I smiled, took her hand in mine. "Ma, I wanted to surprise you tomorrow... but you ruined it."

Dad laughed warmly, and Mom playfully swatted my arm. "Your naughty little boy," she said.

We were still chatting about our trip to the U.S. when the front door creaked open.

Tamaro stepped inside, hoodie pulled up, a lollipop tucked into the corner of his mouth, earphones in. I smiled to myself—he hadn't noticed my parents were here.

He walked toward the living room, casual and unaware. But the moment he looked up and saw who was sitting on the sofa, he froze. His eyes widened, mouth parted in surprise.

"Mom? Dad?" he said, addressing my parents—just like all the members do. We call them Mom and Dad. We're siblings, bound not by blood, but by heart.

My mom immediately stood and pulled Tamaro into a hug. Dad followed, wrapping him in the kind of embrace reserved for family.

I watched, smiling quietly. They love him. Maybe this is the moment—the right one—to finally tell them that he's not just someone I train and tour with.

He's the person I've chosen. My boyfriend.

We sat across from my parents in the living room. Tamaro was beside me, close, but I could feel the nervous energy pulsing through his stillness. After a few light exchanges, I took a quiet breath and shifted the conversation.

"Mom, Dad... I have something to tell you."

Both of them turned to me. Even Tamaro looked up, puzzled, sensing the sudden weight in my voice. I glanced at him, reached for his hand, and held it gently. He hesitated—but didn't pull away.

My mom's gaze dropped to our interlocked fingers, her eyes slowly widening. My dad said nothing, but his expression turned unreadable—serious and still.

I swallowed hard.

"Akiro, what are you doing?" Tamaro whispered, eyebrows furrowed. This wasn't the plan. He was supposed to introduce me to his parents first. He wanted us to wait, take it step by step. But my parents were here, and I didn't want to miss this moment.

"Mom... Dad..." I said, grounding my voice. "Tamaro and I are in a relationship."

I looked at them, heart thudding. The silence that followed felt like the longest minute of my life.

"Waaah! I told you, honey—there was something going on between them!" Mom exclaimed, smacking Dad playfully on the arm.

Dad just chuckled, clearly amused by her reaction. I hadn't expected this. Tamaro and I exchanged glances, smiling quietly.

"Since when?" Dad asked.

"Last year," I replied. "January, when we became official."

Tamaro remained silent beside me, overwhelmed but calm.

Mom stood and embraced him again, warmly. "Tamaro, my son... welcome to the family."

He looked at her, voice soft. "You're not mad, Mom?"

"Of course not," she said, brushing his arm lightly. "Your dad and I—we've talked about it so many times. We've always felt something between you two."

Dad stood, pulled Tamaro into an embrace of his own. "Welcome to the family, Tamaro. Thank you for loving and protecting my son."

He turned toward me then, his eyes full of quiet pride.

"Always remember," Mom said, holding us both in a warm embrace, "we, your parents, will always support you."

Her words settled into my chest like sunlight after rain. In that moment, surrounded by love, I felt a kind of peace I hadn't dared to imagine. Tamaro tightened his grip around me, and I saw it in his eyes too—relief, gratitude, maybe even disbelief.

We were happy. My parents accepted us. They welcomed him not just into the family, but into the soft space where love wasn't questioned.

But beneath that happiness, a flicker of worry remained.

Tomorrow... we would fly to Cebu.

And while my parents had opened their arms, I wasn't sure what kind of embrace awaited us on his side. Would they see me the way mine saw him?

I didn't ask out loud. I just rested my head lightly on his shoulder, letting the moment last a little longer before reality returned.

-TAMARO-

I was still reeling from the surprise of Akiro introducing me to his parents. I hadn't expected it—but they accepted me, wholeheartedly. Now it was my turn.

We'd just arrived in Cebu and parked in front of my family's home. Neither of us stepped out right away. I reached for Akiro's hand. It was cold with nerves.

"Baby, relax, okay? They'll accept us," I murmured, hoping to calm him. He nodded and offered a shy smile.

"Ready?" I asked.

He nodded again.

I rang the doorbell. A few seconds later, the door swung open and my mom stood there, her face lighting up.

"Tamaro! Akiro!" she cried, pulling both of us into a warm hug.

"Hon, the boys are here!" she called out, and in an instant, my two siblings came running out to greet us, laughter trailing behind them as they wrapped me in a flurry of hugs.

"Brother!" my younger siblings shouted in unison as they ran to us, middle school energy bouncing off the walls. They hugged me tightly, then turned to greet Akiro with wide smiles—no hesitation, just warmth.

From the kitchen, Dad stepped out, wearing his apron and holding a spatula.

"Sons," he called, and we stood to embrace him. His hug was firm, familiar.

"Dad, did you cook?" I asked, still holding onto that feeling of coming home.

"Of course," he said, grinning. "And you're going to love it. Give me five more minutes—I'll finish up and we'll eat."

We spent the next while laughing with Mom in the living room, sharing stories from the concert tour and our trip to Hawaii. The house was filled with the scent of home-cooked food, warmth, and comfort.

When Dad called us to the table, we all gathered and shared a meal—full of chatter, teasing, and joy.

Later, we returned to the living room. Akiro sat beside me, calm but tense. My family gathered around, unsuspecting. I took a deep breath, reached for his hand, and turned toward my parents.

"Mom, Dad... I want to tell you something." I paused, then held Akiro's hand tighter. "Akiro and I are in a relationship."

Before anyone could speak, my siblings shrieked in surprise.

"No!" my siblings cried out in unison, then dashed off to their rooms. I tightened my grip on Akiro's hand. I could feel the sting beneath his silence—the way rejection, even if momentary, cuts deeper when it's unexpected.

"Don't mind them, sons," my mom said softly, brushing away a tear from her cheek.

"Honey," she turned to my dad, "this is what I've been talking about."

Dad simply wrapped his arm around her shoulders and nodded, understanding without needing words.

Then she turned to Akiro and embraced him with a warmth only a mother could offer. "Akiro, welcome to the family. Don't worry about those two. They're still young—they might not fully understand yet."

My dad joined her, placing both arms around him. "Welcome to the family, son," he said quietly.

Tears welled in Akiro's eyes as he whispered, "Thank you for accepting us, Mom, Dad."

He didn't say it, but I knew. Out of all the members, he was the softest heart of all—the one who loved quietly, felt deeply, and feared disappointment more than anything. And yet here he was, fully seen.

I left Akiro with my parents and quietly made my way to my siblings' room. I knocked once and opened the door slowly.

My sister was curled up with her pillow, sitting beside our brother, both of them silent, tears staining their cheeks. I drew a steady breath and walked toward them. I sat down at the edge of their bed and looked at them, waiting.

They stared down at the blankets, not saying a word.

"Do you love me?" I asked gently.

They nodded, small and hesitant.

"If you love me... then you should also love the person I love, right?"

Still no answer. Just silence, thick and fragile.

Then my brother whispered, "Brother... you're both boys."

He wiped his face, trying not to cry again.

"Why?" I said softly. "Is that a problem?"

No answer. Just the weight of confusion, the ache of things they hadn't learned yet.

I leaned in and kissed them both on the forehead, arms wrapping around their shoulders. "It's okay," I whispered. "You don't have to understand everything right away. Just promise me you'll try."

"I'll give both of your time," I said gently. "I just hope... you'll accept me for who I am."

I pulled them close for one last hug. No pressure, no pleading—just the warmth of unconditional love. I understood. They were still growing, still learning. I wouldn't force them to understand something that would take time.

When I stepped out of the room, Akiro and my parents turned to me. I gave them a soft smile—small but honest. My mom met my eyes, smiled back, and nodded.

She already knew.

"Don't worry, son," my dad said with quiet assurance. "I'll talk to them."

"Thank you... Mom, Dad," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

We didn't stay in Cebu. By evening, we were already flying back to Manila. Akiro was silent the entire ride. I didn't ask what he was thinking—I already knew.

It was almost midnight when the car stopped in front of our dorm. We stepped out into the cool night, streetlights painting shadows across the pavement. Instead of heading inside, I gently pulled his hand in the other direction.

"Roo, where are we going?" he asked, voice low beneath the fabric of our hoodies. With them up, I figured no one would recognize us.

"I want to go to the park," I said.

He didn't argue.

We sat on the old bench I always return to, the one that has heard every version of me. We let the silence stretch between us until I couldn't bear it any longer. I took a breath.

"Baby... I know you're still thinking about earlier. I'm sorry," I said, eyes lowered. I felt guilty—because I was the one who told him it would all be okay. That they'd accept us. And now, after everything, he was hurting.

"Roo, it's okay," he said, patting my back. "They're young. Confused. Let's give them time."

I looked at him—really looked. "I'll talk to them again," I promised, trying to smile.

He didn't answer. But he did smile back. Softly.

And I knew. He was hurting. Quietly. Just like he always does.

But I also knew what I had to do. I made a promise in my heart that night: my siblings would learn to accept him. Not just as someone I love—but as someone who deserves it.

-AKIRO-

We were back to the grind—early mornings, late nights, aching limbs, and choreography that left no room for distraction. That's the life we chose. Being an idol isn't glamorous from the inside. It's sweat, silence, and the kind of passion that burns quietly when no one's watching.

After telling our parents, Tamaro and I stopped hiding. The company knew now. No awkward glances, no second-guessing in the hallways. Mr. William made sure everything stayed confidential, his way of protecting us.

Still, openness didn't mean security.

I looked at Tamaro as his phone lit up. The smile on his face was small but radiant. Then he answered and said a name I hadn't heard in a while.

"Arion."

He laughed softly—too softly—and my chest tightened. That sting of jealousy crept in again, silent and sharp.

I kept watching him, trying not to let the feeling bloom into something messy. That's when Jemuel's arm slid across my shoulders, warm and familiar. I turned to him, frowning.

He just smiled, the way he does when he knows I'm overthinking again.

"Jealous?" Jemuel teased, trying not to smile.

"No, I'm not," I said, brushing his hand off my shoulder. But he just laughed.

"Ohhh, okay... you're not jealous," he said, still laughing, clearly unconvinced.

"Tsk." I turned away from him, eyes drifting back to Voo—still deep in conversation, phone pressed to his ear, the name Arion lingering between his smiles.

After the call ended, he walked toward us. I didn't say a word. Didn't look at him. I knew he noticed, but he didn't seem to care. That only made it worse.

It's been a year since Arion and Roo grew close—too close. And no matter how many times I try to brush it off, moments like this... they still sting.

Ever since last year, we've been regulars at the music show—performing, receiving awards, living the whirlwind that comes with it. That's where Roo met Arion.

Arion's been a host there for a long time. And Roo, being the social butterfly he is, naturally gravitated toward him. They became close. Too close.

I keep telling myself I shouldn't be jealous. That I have no reason to be. But every time I see them together—laughing in the hallway, whispering behind the set—it stings. Like I'm slowly fading from his attention, like I'm no longer the person he looks for first.

So, I pull away. I ignore him. I wait for him to notice.

But he doesn't.

He lets me go, like it doesn't matter. Like I don't matter.

And that... that hurts even more than the jealousy.

At first, I was jealous of his co-actor in the drama. I watched how they grew close—how they treated Roo, how they cared for him. Maybe it's selfish, but I wanted to be the one doing those things.

And now... it's Arion.

I'm scared. Scared he might fall in love with him. Scared he'll leave me. I know I shouldn't feel this way—I know how deeply Roo loves—but I can't help it.

Because I see how happy he gets when they meet. I see the light in his eyes, the ease in his laugh. And I see the way Arion looks at him. It's different.

It's soft.

After practice, we headed straight back to the dorm. Everyone was exhausted—barely speaking before collapsing into sleep.

Voo and I were the only ones left awake, sharing the silence in our room. I kept ignoring him, speaking only when necessary. My hands moved through the rhythm of folding clothes, each crease and corner sharper than I felt inside.

Then I heard his voice behind me.

"Baby... are you mad at me?"

I didn't answer right away.

He was standing close—close enough that I could feel the weight of his worry. He didn't touch me. He just waited.

"No, I'm not," I said quietly, walking to the bed and lying down without another word. He remained standing, silent, still. I felt guilty—knowing I'd been ignoring him for days, knowing he couldn't understand the reason why.

I was jealous. And he didn't see it.

I kept my back to him, trying to hold back the tears I didn't want him to notice. I was supposed to be stronger than this, wasn't I?

Then I felt the weight shift behind me—his body curling gently beside mine, arms wrapping around my waist from behind. His warmth pressed against me, calm and familiar. He didn't speak. He didn't ask.

He just held me.

I let him.

I knew this was the only way he could sleep. He needed someone to hold. And even now, after everything, he chose me.

I didn't move. I barely breathed. Until I heard his soft, steady snore—quiet and real.

And that was when I let the tears fall.

I turned toward him, gaze resting on his peaceful, angelic face. He must've been exhausted from practice—his features relaxed in sleep, breath slow and steady.

As I watched him, my thoughts drifted to our plan. That one-day escape to Palawan before our next concert. Just the two of us, far from stages and schedules. It was all set. Three days from now.

I leaned in and kissed his forehead, then his cheek.

"I love you, Roo... I'm sorry for ignoring you," I whispered against his skin, wrapping my arms around him gently.

Without waking, he pressed closer and hugged me tightly in return, snuggling in like a quiet child seeking warmth.

Then came the soft snore.

I smiled.

He was adorable, even in sleep—especially in sleep. And somehow, in that wordless exchange, I knew he understood. That he forgave me in his own quiet way.

The next morning, we slipped back into our usual rhythm—as if the silence and jealousy had never happened. We didn't talk about it. We didn't need to. That's how our relationship moves: quiet understanding threaded through unspoken forgiveness. In practice, we were sweet again. Closer. Magnetic. The tension dissolved in movement.

Everything felt steady again—until the day arrived for our trip to Palawan.

We were in the dorm, still wrapped in the comfort of our day off, when Brandon approached me.

"There's been a change," he said. "A very important appointment just came up. It's for you."

I froze.

The others had made plans. Some went home. Others disappeared into quiet corners of their own. But mine? Mine vanished with a single sentence.

My day off had been taken.

Our trip—just one day, just us—might not happen.

"Roo, Brandon told me I have an appointment today," I said gently, while we were still curled up in bed. "I'll try to finish it early so we can still go to Palawan."

"Okay, baby," he murmured, sleepy but smiling. "I'll wait for you. Just call me when you're done so I can get ready." He leaned in and kissed my forehead, eyes half-closed.

"I will, Roo."

I slipped out of bed, letting him drift back into sleep. I didn't have the heart to wake him—his breathing was slow and even, wrapped in dreams I couldn't disturb.

After dressing quietly, I paused beside him, watching the way the morning light kissed his face. I leaned down, pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

"I love you," I whispered, though he couldn't hear it.

Then I left for the day.

When I arrived at the venue, some of the staff were already there, waiting. The work was delayed—we were holding out for someone important. By the time things finally started, it was nearly noon.

All I could think about was him.

During my break, I stepped aside and immediately called him.

"Hello, baby," he answered, his voice light—excited.

"Roo... I'm sorry. I won't make it. It looks like I'll be here until late. We can't go to Palawan today." My words felt heavy in my throat.

There was silence on the other end.

"Roo?" I whispered.

Then I heard it—a deep sigh.

"It's okay, baby. Maybe next time," he said, forcing cheer into his tone, but I knew better. I knew the sound of his disappointment.

"I'm sorry, Roo," I said. "I promise—next time, we'll go to Palawan."

He hesitated. Then quietly, almost too softly:

"Don't promise... because promises might be broken."

And just like that, the line went silent.

I called him again. Still no answer.

I wanted to cry, but I held it in—I still had work to finish. Even while focusing, my mind refused to settle. I kept thinking of him... wondering where he was, how he felt, if he was okay. Restlessness clung to me like a second skin.

When my schedule finally ended, the ache hadn't. I called again.

Still nothing.

I rushed back to the dorm. Most of the members were there, scattered and tired, but he wasn't among them. I went straight to our room, hoping maybe he'd be sleeping.

Empty.

I stepped out and spotted Jemuel, lounging near the hallway.

"Bro... where's Roo?" I asked, voice low but urgent. I knew Jemuel already knew. He always did.

"Huh? You don't know?" Jemuel blinked. "Arion picked him up earlier. They said they're going to Palawan and will be back tomorrow."

I sank onto the sofa. My knees felt weak—completely buckled under the wave of jealousy crashing through me.

All I could picture was the two of them, alone in Palawan, spending the night. Laughing. Sharing silence. Breathing the same air without me.

No... they can't. I clenched my fists, angry and aching, not even realizing the tears spilling from my eyes until Jemuel shouted.

"Akiro, are you okay?"

The others rushed out of their rooms.

"Akiro, what happened? Why are you crying?" Joshua asked.

"I'm going to Palawan," I said, breath shaky. "I'm picking up Tamaro. He can't stay there overnight with Arion. He just can't."

"Akiro," Renz said softly, "it's already late."

"No, I'm going to Palawan. I'm picking him up. No one can stop me," I said, voice tight with resolve.

I turned and walked into our room, leaving everyone in the living room stunned. I didn't look back.

I grabbed my phone and dialed my PA.

"Book me a flight to Palawan," I said quickly. "Today."

There was a pause. I knew they were hesitating, worried about the consequences, about the chaos this might cause with the schedule.

"I don't care if I get scolded," I added. "Just make it happen."

The line clicked off as they started working on it. My chest was pounding—not from panic, but from determination. I couldn't let them be alone. I wouldn't.

I was going to Palawan.

And I was bringing Tamaro home.