I stared at my suitcase on the floor, half-zipped, clothes spilling out like it was staging a protest.
"Margaux."
My manager's voice was carefully neutral, but i could hear the strain underneath.
I didn't answer. I sat on the edge of my bed, picking at a loose thread on my jeans.
He sighed, louder this time. "You really need to finish packing."
"I know," I mumbled.
He didn't reply right away. Just hovered by the door, checking his phone. Probably coordinating with the Pinoy Big Brother team.
God. Pinoy Big Brother.
I exhaled shakily.
"The Controversial Daughter of Makati City."
That was my official title going in.
It sounded so... theatrical. Like something you'd slap on a primetime teaser.
But they weren't wrong.
Because that was me now. The scandal magnet. The spoiled heiress who ruined other people's lives, The actress who arrested in California, The Actress who caught driving drunk, The Actress who caught driving while taking videos, if you believed the internet
They were even making promo graphics for me, I heard. Me, in black and white. My name in big letters. My scandal in even bigger ones.
"Watch the villain live in Kuya's house!"
I ran a hand over my face.
Kuya's house.
It was the biggest reality show in the Philippines.
Everyone watched. Your titas, your cousins, the sari-sari store vendors.
Everyone had an opinion about every housemate.
And now they'd all have one about me.
I swallowed hard.
"This is a mistake," I whispered.
My manager finally looked up. "Margaux—"
"I'm serious."
He shut the door behind him gently and walked over. Sat next to me, careful not to wrinkle his slacks.
"You think i don't know what they're saying?" I choked out. "You think i don't read the comments? They're gonna eat me alive in there."
He didn't argue. Just let me talk.
"'Homewrecker.' 'Plastic.' 'Fake rich kid who thinks she's above everyone.' 'Hope she dies in there, way better if you put that bitch in jail, just like what happened to her in California.'"
My voice cracked.
He rubbed my back once, then dropped his hand.
We weren't exactly touchy people.
"They're gonna hate me more," I whispered.
He cleared his throat. "Or... they'll see the truth."
I laughed without humor. "No one wants the truth. They want drama."
"Then give them the truth with drama," he shot back.
I blinked at him.
He shrugged. "You want to fix this? You can't do it on Instagram. No one believes posts anymore, They want to see you. Really see you. With bed hair, without makeup, crying because you're hungry. They want to see that you're... human."
I was silent.
He pressed. "You go in there, you show them you're not the monster they think you are. That you're just... Margaux."
Just Margaux.
What did that even mean anymore?
I swallowed.
"Besides," he added more softly, "we both know you're not ready to quit."
That stung. Because it was true.
If i was going to go down, I wanted to go down swinging.
I wiped my eyes roughly and stood up. "Fine."
He let out a relieved breath.
I grabbed my charger, makeup bag, stuffed them into the suitcase. Snapped it shut.
"Happy?"
He didn't smile exactly, but his eyes softened. "You're doing the right thing."
I snorted. "We'll see about that."
The car ride to the Pinoy Big Brother house was quiet.
I sat in the back, fingers twisting in my lap, trying not to imagine the comment sections blowing up.
"Ang kapal ng mukha pumasok pa sa PBB!"
"Sana ma-nominate agad 'yan."
"Pwede pala mga convicted sa PBB?
"Nako, lalandiin niya lahat ng mga male housemates, gaya ng ginawa niya kay Ken"
"Sa kulungan n'yo ipasok yan, wag sa PBB"
"Uwi ka na girl, di ka welcome dito."
I felt the nausea rise and forced myself to look out the window instead.
Manila was a blur. Billboards. Jeepneys. Motorcycles weaving like water.
This was home. Even if it hated me.
I closed my eyes.
I'm not leaving.
That was the promise i'd made myself.
I wasn't going to run to some other country. I wasn't going to hide in my parents' mansion in Forbes Park.
I'd stay here.
Face everything.
When we arrived, my manager squeezed my hand before i got out.
"Just... be you," he said roughly.
I blinked at him.
"I don't even know who that is anymore," I said.
He didn't answer.
The production team greeted me outside the gate.
Polite.
Professional.
But there was something in their eyes. The way they didn't quite meet mine too long.
They knew.
Of course they did.
I straightened my spine.
They led me to the interview tent first.
I sat on the stool, lights glaring, makeup girl dabbing sweat off my nose.
"Ready?" the producer asked.
I nodded stiffly.
"Name?"
I forced my voice steady. "Margaux Serene Imperial."
"Occupation?"
"Actress."
"Your official title for this season is 'The Controversial Daughter of Makati City.' Thoughts?"
I inhaled.
"It's... accurate, I guess."
"Why did you agree to enter Pinoy Big Brother?"
I looked straight at the camera.
"Because i'm tired of explaining myself online. If they want to know who I am... let them watch me."
Silence.
The producer just nodded. "Good. That's enough for now."
They ushered me to the gate.
I could hear the theme music in the background, muffled but unmistakable.
My heart was hammering.
I wasn't ready.
But there was no turning back.
A PA clipped the mic onto my collar.
"Deep breath, Ma'am Margaux. On cue, you walk in."
I obeyed.
The gate buzzed.
Swung open.
I walked through.
Inside, the lights were softer. More intimate.
Cameras everywhere.
I heard the voice of Big Brother—Kuya—calm, omniscient.
"Welcome, Margaux."
I managed to say, "Good evening, Kuya," my voice surprisingly clear.
He didn't reply right away.
Just let the silence hang.
As if giving me time to think.
Or to regret.
When i emerged into the main living area, the housemates were already gathered.
They turned.
I felt it.
The hush.
Recognition.
Judgment.
Curiosity.
I lifted my chin.
A few gave polite smiles.
Some avoided my eyes.
I dropped my bag by the couch and forced a smile.
"Hi," I said.
Silence.
Then one girl with dyed pink hair actually beamed. "Oh my god. Margaux Imperial."
I blinked.
She laughed. "Sorry. I'm a fan. Or... I was. I mean..., no. I still am. Just.., awkward."
The room relaxed a bit.
A couple of the others chuckled.
I let out the tiniest breath.
"Thanks," I said softly.
One guy with a buzz cut asked bluntly, "So... you're really here?"
"Yeah," I said.
"Even with... you know."
I forced a nod. "Yeah. Even with that."
Silence.
Kuya's buzzer sounded, sharp and deliberate.
Everyone jumped.
A voice crackled over the speakers.
"Housemates, a reminder: discussion of outside controversies is not allowed."
The guy winced. "Sorry."
I shook my head. "It's fine."
Later that night, I was unpacking my things into the tiny dresser they'd assigned me.
One of the other girls popped her head in.
"Need help?"
I looked up.
She shrugged. "We all have to share anyway. Might as well make friends."
I felt something twist in my chest.
I nodded once. "Yeah. Thanks."
It was just the first day.
But i was here.
And i wasn't leaving.
Not until they saw me for who i really was.
Even if they never forgave me.
Even if i never forgave myself.