All About You

Thirty One

I always thought heartbreak meant hating the other person.

To completely erase them from your life, just like I did with Rafayel not long ago.

How silly I was to believe that was heartbreak.

What I’m facing now, this is the true heartbreak. Distancing myself from my best friend, not out of malice, but out of care.

This week, I’m too consumed by the production for the assignment, making sure it all goes well to afford to think about Marlon. Of us.

The production period is from Monday until Friday, and 10 hours each day. Kiara and Diane don’t ask me too much about Marlon. They’re both just as consumed in the production as I am, with Kiara directing, and Diane being too busy with her responsibilities as the production designer.

No one notices a shift, as of yet. Marlon believes that my distance is as a result of the production. He texts me on Monday morning, right as shooting commences, that he wishes me the best of luck. I don’t reply to him over the next five days when he repeats the same sentiment over and over.

The sooner I forget my feelings for him and the sooner he forgets his affection for me, the easier it will be for both of us to move on. For him to have his happy ending with Christine.

Thankfully, I’m able to box my feelings during filming, and perform my best as producer. I complete all the right tasks, solve all the on-set problems. By the end of the week, the production is a success, and I’m brimming with pride over completing my first film.

On Friday night, after everything is wrapped, the crew goes out for celebratory drinks in the city. I allow myself to get lost in the celebration of our hard work finally paying off. At the bar table, Kiara and Diane encourage me to pursue a script of my own for the next production. They know how passionate I am over writing, and they’ve heard some of the ideas I think of during story class.

I reflect on how I’d begun writing more again because of Marlon. He really doesn’t know how much he’s affected me. Changed me.

During drinks, however, Kiara and Diane finally notice that there’s a cink in my attitude. They pull me aside, away from the rest of the cast and crew, ducking into a quiet area at the bar where we are granted some privacy.

I tell them about my chat with Marlon, and my decision to distance from him for his sake, and Christine’s. Kiara believes that Marlon truly likes me, though, and that he’s confused with Christine. Diane believes I shouldn’t waste my time on any boys right now, and to just focus on getting through the year. I agree the most with Diane.

On Saturday morning, Marlon asks if he can take me out. To celebrate how well I did as a producer, to congratulate me.

I want nothing more than to be with him right now, to see him. To go back to how it was - laughing in the car, singing at the top of our lungs, spending all night watching Sailor Moon episodes. His friendship, our bond, is one of the greatest things that could have come out of our ruse.

Now, I’m throwing it all away.

It’s for the best, I remind myself.

I open the message, and leave it unanswered.

Become a brick wall. That’s how I’ll combat this. If he wanted this thing with Christine to be successful, I couldn’t be here standing in the way, confusing him. It seems to work, because Marlon doesn’t text me again.

The next week is harder.

I’m in danger of crumbling. Of caving in.

My parents question why Marlon hasn’t been taking me to the station, and why I’d asked Dad instead to do so. I don’t have production anymore, so there’s no reason why Marlon isn’t taking me. I evade an answer, by telling them I’d just prefer it that way. Mum doesn’t seem to push it. Nor does Ria.

That Friday, Lolo and Lola asks me at dinner if everything was going well with studies. I inform them of the success of the production, and the relief that it’s all over. After their congratulations, they ask me how Marlon and I are going.

All eyes land on me. I simply smile at my Lolo and Lola as they ask this, and tell them everything is fine.

Yet, later that night after dinner with them, when I’m settled into bed, Mum comes to my room, just as I’m finishing up the last few pages of my current Pride and Prejudice reread. She sits at my feet, dipping the bed toward her.

“Are you and Marlon okay?” she asks, “I’ve noticed that you’ve been - you just haven’t been yourself this week. I know that you were under a lot of stress but -”

A surge of unwarranted annoyance shoots through me.

All of this wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for her and Tita Regina’s incessant childish matchmaking between Marlon and I.

This whole ruse was because of them .

“I’m fine, Mum,” I say, sharper than I’d intended.

Her forehead shoots up in surprise.

“You know, your Dad and I had a lot of fights, when we were freshly dating. He pissed me off a lot -” she chuckles at the anecdote, but I’m not in the mood.

I can’t bear to hear about her and Dad’s perfect love story right now. Hearing it would just make me feel even more like a failure. Like I’m falling behind.

“You and Dad are different from Marlon and I. This isn’t the same.”

My voice is rough, cutting around the edges. I’d never spoken to Mum like this before, yet I can’t seem to stop. Her eyebrows furrow, confused at my attitude.

“I know, darling, but I’m just saying -”

“I know what you’re saying Mum, but I just need you to stop for a moment. Just stop sticking your head constantly in Marlon and I’s business. Please. ”

Everything snaps, and the pent up frustration from years and years of her and Tita Regina meddling in my love life, of never garnering the courage to speak up, of coping with my family’s jokes and giggles about Marlon and I, no matter how much I’d despised it, pours out in boiling heat.

“It’s been like that for years. You and Tita Regina, and everyone are always getting in our business, even before we were together. You were both always trying to control us, to push us, so I need you to stop and let us be in our own space for once.”

Regret crashes into me in violent waves, drowning my anger as Mum’s expression morphs into one of deep hurt. The edges of her eyes begin to redden.

I’m the reason why she’s tearing up right now, and the fact makes me want to rewind everything I’d just said.

“I-I’m sorry darling. I didn’t realise - I hadn’t known - It was never my intention to hurt you or bother you that way.”

I open my mouth, the apology on the tip of my tongue, yet I can’t seem to speak it. While I’m sorry for how I spoke, I’m not sorry for finally telling her how I feel. How I’ve felt all these years. She gets up, heading toward the door. I glance away, tears springing to my eyes

“You can always tell me anything, you know? In your own time.”

I don’t respond as she shuts the door.

On Saturday, when I’m eating dinner with my parents in the living room, half-paying attention to the horror movie they’d put on, we hear a knock at the door. My parents glance at me in surprise.

“Were you expecting anyone?” they ask, but I know they mean Marlon.

I shake my head. It couldn’t possibly be him, right?

That’s when I get a text.

My breath catches, and the memories of his lips close to mine flood over me again. I’ve tried to tuck away the memory. Of everything that transpired on that date. Yet, I know that seeing him will bring it all back.

“It’s Marlon,” I say. Reluctantly, I make my way to the door. When I open it, he’s there, and he’s so beautiful, as he’s always been. Except, his brows are drawn in, his lips tightened at the edges. He’s without his easy-going smile, or the glint in his eyes. Instead, they swim with caution. He’s guarded.

“Marlon -”

“Can I talk to you outside?”

I purse my lips, glancing back at where the living room is. I don’t want my family hearing any of this. With a sigh, I step outside, closing the door. Marlon doesn’t waste a second.

“What’s wrong? What’s happening? Why haven’t you been talking to me?”

I count to three, breathing in deeply, willing myself not to cry, to yell, to say sorry. I remember Christine. It’s meant to be Marlon and Christine.

“I can’t - we just can’t - ,” I try desperately to hide the shiver in my voice, “I can’t talk about this right now with you Marlon, I can’t think properly. Maybe we should end this ruse now -”

“What are you talking about?” he asks, and I’ve never heard him speak so angrily, and toward me, “Who gives a fuck about the ruse? The ruse doesn’t - If there’s a problem, you come to me, you tell me. You don’t ignore me, you talk to me Jaslene. You work this out, whatever is happening. But how am I meant to help you if you won’t tell me -”

“What if you’re the problem?” I snap.

He steps back, shocked. Hurt. And I hate it.

“Like I said, I can’t think right now. Everything is so confusing to me, and I need this space from you.”

“For how long?”

“What?”

“How long do you need this space? Or are you just going to ignore me, until you drive me away. Because that’s not going to happen, Jas.”

He steps closer again, and I step back. I can’t be stuck in that orbit right now. I can’t come between him and Christine. I know I shouldn’t ignore him. That I should tell him the truth. The thing is, I’m scared that I’ll say something I don’t mean, like tell him everything is fine, that he and I are alright, and go back to acting like I haven’t been in a spiral over him.

I’m not good at facing confrontation, so I cower away. I hide, until he’ll realise that I’m not worth the trouble.

“Go home, Marlon,” I whisper. My hands reach for the door and I turn away from him, wanting nothing more than to erase that look of betrayal, hurt and confusion on his face as I shut the door.

It’s worse knowing that it’s there because of me.