Echoes of Us

Chapter Fourteen – Conversations Musing

Fio’s POV

The notification lit up her screen just as she was finishing her coffee.

Lexa: "I heard what happened. If you need anything, let me know."

Fio stared at the message, eyebrows slightly raised. Not because she was surprised Lexa had found out—Van, Mico, or even Andre had probably spread the news faster than she could blink—but because Lexa had reached out at all.

For a moment, she debated how to respond. She wasn’t about to launch into some deep emotional reflection via text. That wasn’t her.

Instead, she typed back:

"I’m fine. Just the usual nonsense."

A pause. Then, she added:

"Thanks for checking in."

She hovered over the send button, exhaled, then pressed it.

Simple. Straightforward. Nothing dramatic.

But still, it was something.

The day went on like normal—or at least as normal as it could be after the tension of the past few days.

Fio spent the afternoon helping her mother with errands, casually chatting with her brothers about random things, avoiding any deeper conversations about the incident unless someone else brought it up first.

Emilia didn’t push her. Neither did Bryle nor Daryl. They understood her enough to let her process things her own way.

And when the evening came, she packed up her things, preparing for the next day—ready to return to her studio in Bolinao.

The next morning, Fio stood in her studio, adjusting the lighting near the windows, breathing in the familiarity of the space.

It was small enough—her own place, where she could work without distraction, where she could let her creativity expand without limitations.

Then, as expected, Claire appeared.

The door swung open dramatically, and Fio didn’t even look up before saying, "Kung gusto mong magpakaseryoso, pakiusap, ‘wag kang umasta na parang sitcom entrance." mabilis niyang sabi.

Claire snorted, dropping herself onto the couch like she owned the place. "Excuse me, pero concerned friend ako."

Fio raised an eyebrow. "Concerned ba talaga o gusto mo lang mang-inis?"

Claire grinned. "Both."

Fio sighed, defeated, before finally sitting across from her. "So, kailan mo balak sabihin kung ano’ng nangyari nung Wednesday?" tanong niya nakaraan pa sana niya itatanong iyon but things happened, and now is the perfect time to ask, wala itong takas ngayon, she grinned.

Claire blinked, then stretched her arms like she was preparing for a confession.

" Mika happened" sagot nito

Fio nodded. "Mika." she repeated.

Claire exhaled, tossing a pillow at her before continuing. "Alam mo naman ang kwento, diba? Noon pa, ‘di natanggap ng parents niya."

Fio’s expression softened slightly. "Alam ko. Pero gusto kong marinig sa’yo."

Claire leaned back, staring at the ceiling for a moment. "Hindi lang ‘yun simpleng ‘di tanggap,’ Fio. As in, tinanggal siya sa bahay, tinanggalan ng support, tinanggal sa lahat ng circles na meron siya noon."

Fio felt her chest tighten. She had always known Mika’s parents were against their relationship, but hearing it so plainly from Claire? It hit harder.

Claire sighed, rubbing her temples. "That night, nag-usap kami. And hindi, hindi kami nag-drama. Wala namang iyakan."

Fio raised an eyebrow. "Iyak ka ba talaga kapag seryoso?" gatong niya pa

Claire threw another pillow at her.

"Pnyeta, Fio, wag mo akong asarin!"

Fio laughed under her breath, then settled again. "So, ano'ng pinag-usapan n’yo?"

Claire exhaled, playing with the loose fabric of her sleeve. "Closure, I guess? Hindi naman ‘to ‘yung tipong bigla kaming magbabalikan. Pero gusto lang naming malaman na okay kami, kahit na may history."

Fio nodded slowly. "Masakit ba?"

Claire huffed, shaking her head. "Malamang."

Fio sighed, reaching forward to squeeze Claire’s wrist lightly. "Tngina, Claire, deserve mo yung taong hindi lang lalaban pero pipiliin ka rin araw-araw." aniya

Claire paused. Then, slowly, she smiled.

"Alam mo, Fio? Minsan, magaling ka rin sa sentimental shit."

Fio groaned, tossing another pillow at her. "Hayop ka talaga." anas niya tumawa naman ito.

Then, without warning, Claire sat up properly, her expression shifting slightly—not serious, but not entirely light either.

"Pero, seryoso, Fio. Kamusta ka?"

Fio hesitated, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone.

It wasn’t like Claire to stop mid-nuisance for deep talks unless she really meant it.

Fio exhaled, leaning back against her chair. "Okay lang. Pagod, pero ayos naman."

Claire squinted at her. "Honest answer or polite response?"

Fio scoffed. "Tngina, Claire, grabe ka naman."

Claire smirked, but she waited—actually waited—for Fio to answer properly.

Fio sighed, stretching her arms. "I mean it. Alam mo na ako, hindi ako ‘yung tipong magda-drama out loud. Pero hindi ko rin idedeny na nakakapagod minsan."

Claire hummed, crossing her arms. "You’re not obligated to be okay all the time, you know."

Fio rolled her eyes, but there was appreciation in her smile. "I know. Pero wala namang choice, diba?"

Claire sighed. "Tangina, ang unfair lang minsan."

Fio looked at her properly now, catching the weight behind her voice.

This wasn’t just about Fio.

Claire was thinking about herself too.

About Mika. About old wounds that didn’t fully heal, just stayed beneath the surface. How cruel this world can be.

Fio leaned forward, nudging Claire’s knee lightly. "Minsan nga."

Claire looked at her, then sighed before groaning loudly, flopping back against the couch.

"Okay, done. No more serious talk. Tease time na ulit!"

Fio laughed. "Hay naku, Claire."

And just like that—they were okay again.

Because this was them—circling deep thoughts before bouncing right back into nonsense.

And just like that—the heavy moment dissolved into easy teasing again.

Because that’s how they always were.

Meanwhile, across town, Andre sat outside a café, sipping on his coffee, watching the morning unfold at its usual pace, watching people pass by.

He wasn’t particularly deep in thought—just appreciating the moment, the stillness of the early hours before the world fully woke up.

But, like anyone in their group of friends, he wasn’t blind to everything happening around them.

Discrimination. Old wounds. Lingering emotions.

He thought about Fio.

About how, even when things got heavy, she found ways to carry herself forward.

He thought about Claire—how she hid her own wounds beneath sarcasm, but never really let them disappear. Ibang klase rin 'tong babae na 'to.

And he thought about Lexa.

Lexa, who wasn’t the kind to linger on emotions, but who still reached out regardless.

And Andre? He just watched. Watched, observed, and waited to see when he’d be needed.

Because he was always in the middle of everything. Even to their family. Because he knew when people needed presence without words.

+++++++

Back in her studio, Fio sat at her desk, scrolling through old photographs, moments captured that held their own histories.



She thought of Lexa. Claire. Mika. Her mother.

Thought of how, despite everything, there was still love in her life.

It just looks different now.

And maybe that was okay.

+++++++

It was one of those nights—the kind where nothing was planned, but boredom had settled in just enough to make them search for something to do.

Since neither Fio nor Claire had work that day, it was easy to fall into the decision to head to Andre’s resto-bar—their usual spot, familiar and always a safe space for letting things unfold naturally.

By the time they arrived, the place was alive with the hum of casual conversations, low music, and the comforting scent of grilled food mixed with alcohol.

Mico and Van were already there, lounging in their usual corner, deep in some ridiculous conversation about which local basketball team was most overrated.

"Hoy, buti naman at naisipan n’yong gumala," Van greeted, waving them over.

Claire grinned, sliding into the seat beside him. "Ano bang silbi ng gabi kung hindi man lang natin gagamitin?"

Fio chuckled, settling beside Claire as Andre approached, wiping his hands with a towel.

"Ano'ng gusto n’yo?" Andre asked, eyes flickering between them.

Claire smirked. "Surprise us."

Andre shook his head, muttering something about how he’d give them whatever was left from the earlier rush.

Mico leaned forward, tapping a finger against the table. "So, paano na, Fio? Ang daming nangyari ngayong linggo. Napagod ka ba?"

Fio exhaled, swirling the water in her glass before answering. "Sino bang ‘di mapapagod?"

Van clicked his tongue, nodding. "Tngina, ang daming chismis tungkol sa nangyari sa store ni tita Lia." sambit nito.

Claire rolled her eyes. "Chismis na naman, give her a rest. Baka naman puro nonsense ang pinagsasabi ng tao." anito

Fio hummed, choosing her words carefully. "Hindi naman lahat. May mga solid na sumuporta. Pero, syempre, marami rin ang wala namang alam pero ang daming sinasabi."

The conversation flowed easily, shifting between deeper topics and casual nonsense—until the air shifted.

It started subtly—a lingering stare, a hushed murmur from another table, the faint weight of someone watching too closely.

Fio felt it before she fully understood it.

And then—the voice.

"Ikaw ba ‘yung babae sa post?"

The conversation at their table stilled.

Claire tensed beside her, Van and Mico glanced toward the source, and Andre—who had just been walking back toward them—paused just enough to take in the situation before moving closer.

Fio turned slightly, meeting the gaze of the man who had spoken—a stranger, but one who clearly knew exactly who she was.

"Kung may kailangan ka, pwede namang hindi ganito ang approach mo," Fio said smoothly, keeping her tone even but firm.

The man chuckled, shaking his head. "Wala akong kailangan. Nakakatuwa lang. Ang daming nagkakagulo sa internet dahil lang sa ‘yo."

Claire shifted, her posture tightening, eyes narrowing. "Dahil lang sa kanya? At anong nakakatuwa don?" gigil noting tanong

Van sighed loudly, placing his glass down with more force than necessary. "Pnyeta, bro, kung problema ang hanap mo, lumipat ka na lang ng table."*

Mico leaned back, arms crossed, watching with mild amusement but clear irritation. "Palagi na lang may ganitong tao, tangina. Wala na bang iba?"

The man didn’t back down. Instead, his expression turned smug, eyes flickering between them. "Relax. Wala namang masama sa tanong. Curious lang."

Andre stepped in, his voice calm but decisive. "Kung curious ka, gamitin mo utak mo. Tanong na may respeto lang ang tinatanggap dito."

Fio held her breath for a second, letting Andre’s words settle into the air.

The man chuckled again, this time more amused than anything.

He didn’t push further, didn’t stay long enough to make it worse—just shook his head and turned away, retreating back to his own space.

But the tension remained, lingering around their table.

Fio exhaled slowly, shaking her head. "Palaging may ganito, diba?"

Claire muttered something under her breath, stirring her drink aggressively. "Tngina, nakakapagod na."

Andre sighed, rubbing his temples. "Basta dito ka, walang mananalo sa ganyang klaseng tao."

Van smirked, raising his glass slightly. "Tama. Palaging laban, pero hindi ibig sabihin tayo ang matatalo."

Fio smiled slightly, appreciating the solidarity.

Because in moments like this—she knew she wasn’t alone.

And sometimes, that was enough to push past the noise.

She's loved and there's nothing to be afraid of.