"Naure?" he called softly.
I heard a few gentle knocks on the door before I got up to open it.
Standing there was Emilliano, dressed in our old couple pajamas, holding his favorite pillow—the one with his face printed on it. I just looked at him for a moment before walking back inside, leaving the door open like we always did. He followed me in without a word.
I lay back on my bed and watched him quietly push the couch closer to the bed. He always did that.
"How did you get in?" I asked simply.
I forgot to unlock the main gate. We were used to him dropping by at night, so we often left it open—but the front door was still usually locked.
He pouted as he flopped onto the couch. "Tita-Mommy let me in," he replied.
I nodded. I didn't ask anything else. This had always been our routine. I already knew why he came—but he still gave me a reason, anyway.
"I can't sleep," he said, lying on his side, facing me.
He has insomnia. He struggles a lot with sleep and usually takes sleeping pills just to rest at night. I once told him that relying too much on pills could be bad for him—especially at such a young age. So whenever he didn't want to take them, he came to my room instead. He said it was easier to sleep when I was nearby.
"What if one day I can't sleep and you're not here anymore? Who do I knock on?" he suddenly asked after a minute of silence.
"Your manager," I replied.
"No. I can't sleep without you around. I might just go back to taking my pills," he said with that usual pleading tone. I knew that tone—he used it whenever he wanted something. "Can't you just move with me?"
There it was.
I shook my head and lay flat on my back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. "I can't," I murmured. "I can't leave Mama."
"Tita-Mommy would understand," he said softly.
I shook my head again. "I can't leave my life here, Emilliano. Unlike you—I don't have a new life waiting for me in the U.S.," I said.
He sighed deeply. "Yeah… I'm sorry."
I was packing my bag when my phone rang. I answered right away.
"Yes?"
The line was noisy. I could hear a lot of voices—some of them familiar. They were clearly already on set, judging by the sound.
"Where na you?" Cathy asked.
I scratched the back of my neck. "Still in Cavite," I said. "I'll travel later this afternoon. The sun's too harsh right now."
There was a brief pause. "Do you want me to ask Aries to pick you up?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.
I shook my head even though she couldn't see it. "No, thank you. I'm fine, come on," I chuckled. "I'm not a kid anymore."
It took a few seconds before she spoke again. "Emillio's been out of it since earlier."
My brow furrowed. "What do you want me to do about that?"
"He seems distracted," she added.
I sighed and glanced at my wristwatch. "It's already 11:30. He's probably just hungry," I said, setting my phone on the table so I could continue packing. I put her on speaker.
"Really? We offered him food but he declined. Guess he's really gone Hollywood," she teased, her grin practically audible.
I glanced at the phone but didn't say anything.
He used to prefer fruits on set.
I wasn't sure if that was still true now, so I didn't mention it. Back then, when I used to tag along on his shoots as his 'assistant,' he would always ask for fruits around 11:45.
"What scene are you guys working on?" I asked.
"Hmm, we're wrapping up episode two," she said. "Then after episode three, we'll have the press conference for the cast. Just like we talked about."
I nodded to myself. "Ah, yes. Make sure they're ready too. You know how the journalists can be."
She scoffed. "Please, I've got strong connections," she joked. "And hey—you're introducing yourself too, right? Big win for the press. They'll love it." She added, like I was some kind of celebrity.
I smirked. "Of course people are going—it's Emilliano who's part of the cast."
I shook my head, amused. "Anyway, I'm packing up now. See you, alligator."
"See you." She hung up.
I decided not to drive since it was a long trip and I tend to get sleepy during long drives. It was also my first time going to Marikina alone, and I figured I'd struggle if I drove myself.
After packing everything, I left a note for my mom so she wouldn't wonder where I was. She didn't like using phones or gadgets—said the buttons confused her. The only "electric" thing she used at home was the TV, which she only turned on when Emilliano's shows were on. Luckily, we had an international channel so she never missed them.
I booked a Grab van before heading out. I always booked vans—it had become a habit ever since I learned how to use ride apps.
About half an hour later, the Grab arrived. I quickly loaded my luggage into the back without asking the driver for help. I could handle my own bags.
It only took a few hours from Cavite to Marikina. I even managed to nap a little before we reached the street Cathy had sent me.
There was still quite a walk from where the van dropped me off, but I didn't make the driver go any farther—someone from the production team was going to pick me up in a kuliglig anyway.
I was weirdly excited. I had never ridden a kuliglig before in my life.
After about thirty minutes, I heard the sound of a loud exhaust and even louder voices heading my way.
"Leiah!" someone shouted.
I turned toward the road—and immediately spotted the production team.
And with them... was Emillio?