It worked! It fucking worked!
Timothy was super elated from the outcome. If no one was around, he would have literally jumped from joy and shouted to the heavens about making a hundred thousand pesos in a single morning.
No—two hundred seventy thousand pesos.
The black Goldenhills envelope in his backpack felt like it weighed ten kilos. His hands kept brushing against it, just to make sure it was real, not some dream that would vanish when he blinked.
"₱270,000…" he whispered to himself, grinning ear to ear. "I really did it."
The memory of Mr. Santos's nod and the manager sliding those crisp bills across the counter kept replaying in his head like a highlight reel. For the first time in his life, he wasn't broke. He wasn't scraping by on ₱100 mascot gigs or handing out flyers under the scorching sun.
He wanted to treat himself. That ₱50 siopao earlier wasn't enough to celebrate something this big. His stomach rumbled as if agreeing.
He glanced around the polished floors of Greenbelt. Restaurants lined the halls—Starbucks, Italianni's, a ramen house with steaming bowls on display, and a steakhouse whose menu he didn't even dare to check yet. The scents wafting out made his mouth water.
"Damn… I can actually afford this now," he muttered. Just saying it felt surreal. His stomach gave another growl, making him chuckle under his breath. "I wonder how steak tastes like…"
For years, steak was something he only saw on TV commercials or in the Facebook posts of rich classmates who bragged about eating at hotels. To him, meat usually meant thin slices of pork from the wet market, or chicken skin fried until crispy. Steak was a foreign concept.
He stared longingly at the steakhouse across the hallway. Through the glass, he could see waiters in white shirts and aprons serving sizzling plates, the aroma of seared beef drifting out every time the door opened.
His hand brushed the envelope again. ₱270,000. He could easily afford one steak meal. He could order the biggest one on the menu and not even make a dent in his newfound fortune.
"Okay, let's go."
Timothy took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and walked toward the steakhouse. Each step felt like he was trespassing into another world. The glass doors opened smoothly as a waiter in a crisp white shirt bowed slightly.
"Good afternoon, sir. Table for one?"
The sir still made Timothy twitch inside, but he nodded. "Yes."
He was guided to a small table by the window. The chair was cushioned, the table covered in a pristine white cloth, with neatly folded napkins and polished silverware laid out. A small vase with a single flower sat in the middle. Timothy's heart pounded.
The waiter handed him a leather-bound menu. Timothy opened it carefully, like it might explode in his hands.
Ribeye Steak – ₱1,500
Tenderloin – ₱1,800
Wagyu Special – ₱3,500
His eyes widened slightly, but he forced himself not to flinch. For once, these prices didn't mean impossible. They were within reach. He swallowed, his throat dry, and pointed at the ribeye.
"I'll have the ribeye steak, medium rare… with rice, please."
"Of course, sir. Would you like anything to drink?"
He hesitated. "Just water." He wasn't about to burn extra pesos on a fancy wine he didn't understand.
"Very well, sir. Please wait a moment." The waiter collected the menu and walked off, leaving Timothy sitting stiffly in the plush chair.
He glanced around. At the next table, a man in a suit was cutting into his steak with practiced ease, chatting casually with a woman dressed in designer clothes. At another, a family of four laughed while clinking glasses of wine.
They are really from a different league.
Minutes later, his order arrived. The waiter placed the sizzling plate in front of him, and the smell nearly knocked Timothy back. The ribeye glistened under a drizzle of butter, juices pooling around it. On the side, a mound of steaming white rice and a medley of vegetables.
"Enjoy your meal, sir," the waiter said before stepping away.
Timothy stared at the plate. His stomach growled so loud he laughed softly.
"₱1,500… don't disappoint me," he muttered, picking up the knife and fork.
He sliced into the steak, the knife gliding smoothly through the meat. Pink juices bled onto the plate. He lifted the first bite to his mouth, hesitant—then took it in.
His eyes widened.
Holy…
The flavor exploded on his tongue. Juicy, tender, seasoned just right. It melted in his mouth in a way no carinderia barbecue stick ever could. He chewed slowly, savoring every fiber.
"This… this is insane…" he whispered, before diving in for another bite.
He ate slowly, deliberately. Each mouthful felt like a revelation. The rich, buttery meat paired with simple rice made him grin like an idiot. For years, he had been surviving on instant noodles, hotdogs, and cheap fried food. This was a different universe.
By the time he set down his fork, the plate was wiped clean. His stomach was full, warm, and satisfied in a way it had never been before.
The bill came soon after, neatly tucked into a small folder. ₱1,500 exactly. Timothy pulled two crisp ₱1,000 bill from the envelope and slid it inside.
The waiter returned, collected the payment, and smiled. "Thank you very much, sir."
The waiter returned, collected the payment, and smiled. "Thank you very much, sir. Wait for the change please."
A minute later, the waiter returned with 500 bill change. Timothy rose to his feet and left the restaurant.
Timothy stepped out of the steakhouse with a full stomach, the warm aftertaste of the ribeye still lingering. For once, he didn't feel the pang of regret that usually followed spending money.
The black envelope in his backpack pressed against his shoulders like a reminder. ₱270,000. Even after the steak, it barely made a scratch.
He walked slowly through Greenbelt, eyes darting to every store window. He'd never really done this before—just walked and looked without instantly thinking, I can't afford that. For the first time in his life, he allowed himself to imagine.
At first, he thought of himself. His cracked phone, taped at the back to keep the battery from falling out, felt heavier in his pocket. He passed by a Samsung store, then an Apple shop. The glowing iPhones on display practically called out to him. Sleek, fast, untouched by years of secondhand wear.
"₱70,000 for the latest iPhone," he murmured, staring at the price tag. His gut twisted. Normally, he would've laughed bitterly and walked away. But now? He tightened his grip on the envelope strap. "Why not?"
Then his thoughts shifted to Angela. His little sister's shoes were nearly falling apart—taped at the sole, laces frayed. She always said it was fine, that they still worked, but he knew better. Passing by Nike and Adidas, his gaze settled on a pair of simple white sneakers. Not flashy, but sturdy. Perfect for her. Nearby, he saw a pastel backpack, something she could use for school instead of the worn-out hand-me-down she carried now.
He smiled faintly. "She'll go crazy over these."
Then, Ma. He pictured her faded blouses, stretched thin from years of use. She never bought anything new for herself, always saying, "You two first".
Timothy stopped by a boutique selling simple but elegant dresses. A modest floral one caught his eye. Something that would make her look younger, brighter—like she wasn't carrying the weight of the world every day.
His chest tightened. She deserved that.
Before he knew it, Timothy had walked into the stores and made the purchases. Sneakers and a backpack for Angela, a dress for his mother, and for himself, finally, a brand-new smartphone.
The cashier handed him the bag with a smile. "Thank you, sir."
Sir. He was still getting used to that.
He spent over 90,000 pesos. Yes, he bought that Iphone 16.
By the time he left Greenbelt, his arms were full of shopping bags. He must've looked like one of those professionals after payday, carrying gifts home. The weight didn't bother him at all—if anything, it felt good.
But he wasn't done yet. Timothy hopped into a Grab car and told the driver to take him to the nearest Jollibee. Usually, the Grab Driver would refuse to entertain requests because it's not part of the services, but with the tips, the driver agreed.
In the drive thru, he ordered one bucket of chicken, a box of spaghetti, and drinks. After that, the driver took him home.
On the ride home, he couldn't stop smiling. He pictured Angela's eyes lighting up at the new shoes and bag, Ma tearing up when she saw the dress, both of them laughing around the table with fried chicken and spaghetti like they hadn't in years.
But as the Grab car weaved through traffic and the familiar streets of Tondo began to creep into view, a knot formed in his stomach.
Wait.
How the hell was he supposed to explain this?
His smile faded as the realization hit him like cold water. He had walked into Greenbelt looking like an office worker and walked out with over ₱90,000 worth of shopping bags. A new iPhone, branded sneakers, a dress from a boutique, fast food for dinner—things he couldn't even dream of affording yesterday.
Ma wasn't stupid. Angela wasn't stupid either. They both knew he was barely scraping by with mascot jobs and handing out flyers.
Shit. What am I supposed to say? "Oh, I magically sold a diamond ring worth ₱270,000"? He almost laughed at the absurdity. No way they'd buy that.
He pressed a hand against his backpack, feeling the crisp weight of the Goldenhills envelope. If Ma saw this, she'd demand answers. Worse, she might panic and think he stole it, or got mixed up in something illegal.
The Grab driver's voice pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts. "Boss, we're almost there."
Timothy nodded absentmindedly, eyes darting to the shopping bags beside him.
He needed a cover story. Something believable. Something simple.
His brain scrambled. Scholarship grant? No, too big a lie—Ma would want paperwork. A lotto win? Possible, he would just tell them that they took the ticket.
That should work.