The Zoom call was scheduled for 2 PM.
By 1:45, Glad had changed outfits seventeen times.
"I can't do this," she announced, holding up two blouses. "Red or black?"
Kim, reviewing talking points on her laptop, didn't look up. "You're a supernatural creature. Wear whatever makes you feel powerful."
"So... both?"
"Glad, that's not how clothes work."
"It is if you're creative."
In the end, she settled on a simple white blouse ("makes me look innocent") and her grandmother's pearl earrings ("reminds me I'm old enough to lie effectively").
The interviewer was a young woman named MJ from GMA News, professional and perky in that way that made Glad instantly suspicious.
"Ms. Samotiloy, thank you for joining us! This is such an honor. We've never interviewed a real Manananggal before."
"First time for everything," Glad said, her smile tight. "And please, call me Glad."
"Glad! Lovely. Now, let's start with the obvious question: how does it feel to be discovered after hiding for so long?"
Glad had prepared for this. Kim had drilled her for hours.
"It's... surreal," she said carefully. "For 173 years, I've lived in shadows. Not because I'm dangerous, but because I'm different. People fear what they don't understand. But the response has been overwhelming. Kind, even."
"That's wonderful to hear! Now, some skeptics are saying this is all a hoax. Special effects. What do you say to them?"
Glad leaned closer to the camera. "I say: come to Dumaguete on a full moon. Watch me fly. Then tell me it's special effects."
MJ's eyes widened. "That's... quite an invitation."
"I'm a quite creature."
"And your diet? We've heard rumors about—"
"Medical blood, ethically sourced. Type O negative, mostly. Sometimes A positive if I'm feeling adventurous." Glad smiled. "I have a delivery subscription. Very convenient."
MJ laughed nervously. "Well, that's... practical!"
"The 21st century is about efficiency. Why hunt when you can have things delivered?"
The interview continued for twenty minutes—questions about her history, her adaptation to modern life, her thoughts on technology. Glad answered honestly but carefully, sticking to the narrative Kim had crafted: I'm a person first, a creature second. I pay taxes. I vote. I have Netflix.
When the call ended, Kim gave her a thumbs up.
"Perfect. You were human and supernatural in exactly the right proportions."
"I felt like I was lying the whole time."
"You were. That's called public relations."
Glad's phone immediately started buzzing with notifications. The interview clip was already being shared, commented on, memed.
"She has Netflix. I can't. She's me."
"The way she said 'type O negative' like she's ordering coffee"
"New fear unlocked: your delivery rider is a Manananggal"
"Actually she seems nice. Can we keep her?"
"Dumaguete tourism about to skyrocket"
Tita Hanya, watching from her living room, felt conflicted. She'd made the video that started this. She'd exposed the creature. But now the creature was... beloved?
"Ma," her daughter called from the other room, "your Facebook is blowing up. People are asking if you can introduce them to the Manananggal."
Tita Hanya stared at her screen.
The woman she'd tried to expose was now more famous than her chismis page.
And people wanted MEET her.
"Anak," she said slowly, "can you teach me how to delete Facebook?"
But it was too late.
Gladys Samotiloy, the Manananggal of Dumaguete, was no longer a secret.
She was a star.