[title still in the works]
an excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

“Thank you Miss Malvar, we shall contact you when you’ve secured the position,” the woman in front of me smiles and offers her hand.

For a moment there, I went blank. This is my third interview this morning and it’s only 11:30 a.m. I knew it, I should’ve bought some coffee when I got off the bus. But if you’ve been unemployed for months, like me, coffee seems like such a luxury. Besides, I thought I could do without my regular morning coffee fix.

I snap back to the hand in front of me, I shake it and return a smile.

As I head out of the building and into the perpetually busy streets of Ayala Avenue, I feel like such a failure. There was a throng of people in business suits coming from all directions. They all look like they know exactly where they are going while I stood out here confused. I’ve only been to this part of Makati twice; the first one was when I had to hand-deliver my resume, today was the second.

Bzzz-bzzz. I felt my phone vibrate in my bag.

“VTR done. Meet you in CBTL. How were your interviews?”

Right, I almost forgot, I was meeting up with my best friend M. I scrunch up my nose like I always do when I’m thinking. Then my fingers found themselves typing away.

“What interviews? I forgot coffee. It went in a blur. Uh, where’s CBTL?”

I look around for some sign of CBTL. M and I love the coffee there. But lately, I’ve been succumbing to instant coffee. Three pesos per sachet is cheaper than a hundred and plus. Now that I think about it, there isn’t much difference. I mean, they both have caffeine, which is the only real reason I need coffee anyway.

Bzzz-bzzz.

“Where you at? I’ll go fetch you. Walking to the underpass in Rufino.”

I must look absolutely stupid just standing here as workers rush off to their lunch. I’m almost tempted to stick my hand in the crowd and pull someone to ask where the hell I am and if they could please bring me to CBTL.

Bzzz-bzzz-bzzz-bzzz-bzzz-bzzz. This must be M.

“Hello?”

“Gosh, where are you?”

“To be honest, I have no idea. Where are you? I can’t see any sign of CBTL anywhere. I saw Starbucks though.”

“I can meet you there if you can manage to get yourself to Starbucks. We can walk to CBTL together. I’m now turning left to take the underpass. I’ll be there in five minutes. You?”

“I’m actually standing near an underpass. I guess I’ll be there in 5 min-“

I don’t even finish the word and quickly snap my phone shut. I saw M come out of the corner. I’d be blind if I didn’t see her. She’s five foot ten, her head practically pops out of the crowd. Her olive skin glows in the sunlight and her brown wavy hair bounces as she struts. That’s a signature M walk right there.

“M! Over here!” I yell as I make my way towards her. She finally spots me and grabs my elbow as she leads me down the escalator to the underpass.

“Thank God I found you!” she beams towards me. Her cheeks are flushed with pink as she struggles to catch her breath.

“Technically, I found you,” I retort. She laughs and squeezes my elbow. I’m happy to have her as company. I was getting dizzy watching thousands of faces go past me, none of them I recognize. “Anyway, how’d your VTR go? I’m sure they made you sign a contract on the spot. You look stunning today,” I add while stepping back a little to get a full view of her outfit. She was wearing a white halter dress with grass and red flower details on the hem. Her tan lines, which she got on a trip to Bohol last week, was visible. On her feet were white, slim Havaianas. On her shoulder was a white Chanel tote bag I was itching to purchase myself, but in black.

Margherita Conti, or M as her friends fondly call her, is my best friend since we were eleven. She’s a half-breed – half-Filipino, half-Italian. I, on the other hand, am proud to say that I’m a hundred percent Filipina. I’m not sure how we managed to remain friends this long since our lives are so far apart from each other. Some people could not even guess we were friends, much more best friends.

M has been jet setting from Manila to Italy almost three times every year to visit her family. She decided to pursue a modeling career here since, as she says, “In Manila, I stand out. In Italy, I blend in.” True enough, M has been grazing countless fashion spreads in magazines and has appeared in numerous television commercials. Though she started modeling when she was twelve, her career made a full turn when she had acquired some curves courtesy of puberty. She’s slim but had bumps in all the right places.

As for me, l lived all my life in Manila. The farthest I had gone was in Palawan, and that was when the Conti family flew in for a vacation and decided to bring me along. While M shuffles through VTRs and go-sees, I’m rushing from interview to interview hoping to land a job before my mother cuts my allowance. She had warned me that I needed to get a job six months following my graduation, you know, so I wouldn’t bum off. It’s already mid-July and I have less than three months to start making my own money.

I only started sending out resumes two weeks ago because I had been enjoying a break since I got my diploma. I was busy catching up with books I haven’t had time to read as well as shows I wasn’t able to follow on TV. Actually, waking up at two in the afternoon without worrying if I had a test that day was a feeling I almost forgot during my four years in college. Now, I’m just part of the population who’s unemployed, hopefully not for long.

“I’ll have a Chai Tea Latte, NSA, in a to-go cup, please,” I hear M’s voice cut through me. I hadn’t noticed we were at CBTL already. She turns around and looks at me, her eyebrows raised as if expecting an answer.

Silence except for the usual hustle and bustle behind the espresso machine.

“Jessica Malvar, are you with me?” M claps her hands inches away from my nose. Her manicured nails glimmering slightly. She turns back to the guy behind the counter. He’s obviously smitten with M by the way he looks. She could take forever to order and he wouldn’t mind at all.

“She’ll have a regular Moroccan Tea Latte, make that NSA too,” she continues and hands him a five hundred peso bill. The yellow piece of currency with Ninoy’s face beaming back at me brings me back to life.

“Hold on, let me give you some change for my drink,” and I hurriedly dig through my bag looking for my purse.

“Jess, it’s on me. You clearly need your daily dose of caffeine before you can begin to function properly. Let me do the honors of waking up your nervous system,” she sticks out her tongue and a metal ball flicks momentarily.

“Okay, I’ll let you buy me a drink. You got my order wrong anyway,” and proceeded to the nearest couch. M sits herself down beside me as half the guys in the room turn to look at our direction.

“Well, I think it’s too late to have coffee. Tea has caffeine too and it’s a much healthier choice,” she muses and props her bag on the table. I almost forgot, M is a health buff. She’s been coaxing me to follow her new diet plan and to enlist at the gym she goes to. With that thought she reminds me, “So Jess, I talked to my trainer yesterday and he says there’s this new promo next month about the membership fee being waived if you sign up for a twelve-month plan. It’ll be like half of what it normally costs.”

“That sounds tempting but I’m currently tied to a commitment right now.”

“What can you be committed to right now? “ she asks mockingly. In a split second she’s jumping up and down from her seat tugging at my arm, “Oh my god! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod! You got the job didn’t you? Tell me all about it,” she stresses every word of her last sentence.

“Actually, that’s my point, I’m still unemployed and thus very much committed to finding myself a job,” I say wearily. M’s energy dies down with the disappointing news.

“Well, they haven’t decided yet, have they? I’m sure they’ll call you back as soon as they realize they have spent half the day interviewing a bunch of incompetent individuals. Clearly, you are the woman for the job.”

I hear M’s name being called by the barista in the pick-up counter. She stands up and looks at me reassuringly as she heads out to get our drinks. Seconds later my drink is served in front of me and I can smell the chocolate and minty aroma emanating from the warm cup. I guess I could give this tea latte a try.

As M takes her place beside me, she puts her cup up and, like an M original, offers a toast, “To my best friend Jessica, I’ll still love you even if you’re broke.” I break into a smile, pick up my latte and hear the paper cups swoosh together in agreement. She scrunches up her nose at me and for a moment there I remember her as we were when we were eleven. I still can’t believe we’ve remained friends this long.

We both take a sip of our drinks and allow the warmth to envelop us. I look at M and find a trace of worry lined along her forehead. She notices me and tries to mask that worry with a smile. Even in this noontime sun, the real world is giving us a cold shoulder.