Chapter 8 - More Room
I woke up confused.
Not alarmed.
Just—
confused.
The ceiling was wrong.
Not my ceiling.
The pillow smelled too good.
And there was something warm pressed against my foot.
I opened one eye.
Jane's room.
Right.
Sunday.
One and a half drinks.
Embarrassingly low alcohol tolerance.
Sleepover.
I looked down.
The warm thing touching my foot was Jane's leg.
Nothing dramatic.
Single bed.
Limited real estate.
Physics.
I carefully moved my foot.
Jane moved too.
Then opened her eyes.
We stared at each other.
Morning face.
Messy hair.
No makeup.
Half-awake.
Normal.
She blinked.
Then—
"Buhay ka?"
I stared.
"Good morning din."
She smiled.
"Hindi ka nagsuka."
"Congratulations to both of us."
"Headache?"
I checked.
"No."
"Nahihilo?"
"No."
"Sure?"
"Jane."
"What?"
"I had one and a half drinks. Hindi ako na-food poison."
She laughed.
"Pula ka kasi kagabi."
"I'm fine."
She studied my face.
Again.
Actually studied.
I noticed.
"What?"
"Wala."
I waited.
She didn't say anything.
So—
fine.
Friends looked at friends.
Normal.
I turned onto my back.
Then smelled the pillow again.
Fuck.
Jane caught it.
Of course.
Her smile widened.
"Bango?"
I closed my eyes.
"Sakto lang."
"Second time mo na naamoy."
"I am breathing."
"Grabe ka huminga."
"Please shut up."
She laughed into her pillow.
I checked the time.
7:14 AM.
"Shit."
Jane frowned.
"What?"
"Monday."
"So?"
"Work."
She immediately looked unimpressed.
"No."
I turned toward her.
"What no?"
"Breakfast muna."
"I'll eat at home."
"Sure?"
"Yes."
"Last time sinabi mo rin yata yan tapos hindi ka kumain."
I stared.
"When?"
"College."
"That was years ago."
"Still happened."
"Why do you remember that?"
She shrugged.
"Because I have a brain?"
Annoying.
Valid.
I sat up.
The room moved completely normally.
No dizziness.
Excellent.
Jane watched.
"You okay?"
I looked at her.
"Yes, nurse."
"Good."
"There it is again."
"What?"
"Good."
She laughed.
Then I looked down at myself.
Jane's shirt.
Right.
I had forgotten.
"I'm stealing this."
She sat up.
"No."
"I wore it already."
"So?"
"It's contaminated."
"Lia."
"I'll wash it."
"Give it back."
"Eventually."
She stared.
"Magnanakaw."
"Friend privilege."
"You're abusing friend privilege."
"Apparently."
I stood.
She looked me up and down.
Then—
the smallest smile.
I caught it.
"What?"
"Wala."
"Why are you looking?"
She leaned back against the wall.
"May mata ako."
I narrowed my eyes.
"That line belongs to me."
"Public domain."
"Thief."
"You're literally stealing my shirt."
Fair.
Outside the room, the house was already awake.
Of course.
Tita was in the kitchen.
Tito was having coffee.
One of Jane's brothers was eating.
Ate Patricia was somewhere outside the house already, apparently doing adult things at an unreasonable hour.
I approached Tita first.
"Good morning po."
"O, gising na?"
"Opo."
"Okay ka?"
I laughed.
"Yes po."
"Hindi masakit ulo?"
"Hindi po."
Jane appeared behind me.
"Okay naman siya."
Tita looked at her.
"Pinainom niyo kasi."
From the table, one of Jane's brothers immediately defended himself.
"Isa lang naman!"
"One and a half," Jane corrected.
I looked at her.
"Why are we auditing my alcohol?"
Tito laughed.
"Mahina ka pala."
"Very po, apparently."
Jane's brother grinned.
"Next time two."
Jane immediately—
"No."
I looked at her.
She looked back.
"What?"
"I can decide."
"Sure."
Her tone implied the opposite.
Tito laughed again.
"Wag niyo na painumin. Hindi sanay."
"Thank you, Tito."
Finally.
An ally.
I moved toward the door.
Tita noticed immediately.
"O, saan ka?"
"Uwi na po."
"Kain muna."
There it was.
"I'll eat at home po."
She stared.
Jane crossed her arms.
I looked between them.
Same face.
Different generations.
Dangerous.
"Tita—"
"May sinangag."
I stopped.
That was unfair.
"And egg," Jane added.
I looked at her.
"Why are you helping?"
"And hotdog."
"Jane."
She smiled.
I sighed.
"Fine."
Tita nodded like the outcome had never been in doubt.
Correct.
Breakfast was rice, egg, hotdog, and coffee.
Jane sat beside me.
Not across.
Available chair.
Nothing more.
Her brother looked at the shirt I was wearing.
"Kay Jane yan?"
I looked down.
"Yes."
He nodded.
"Ah."
I stared.
"What does ah mean?"
"Wala."
Jane kicked his chair lightly.
"Tumahimik ka."
He laughed.
I looked at Jane.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Interesting.
Apparently every family had its own Chloe.
Tita put another hotdog on my plate.
"Tita, busog na po."
"Isa lang."
I looked at Jane.
She was trying not to laugh.
"This family has a problem with the phrase one lang."
Jane lost it.
Her brother started laughing too.
Tita frowned.
"Bakit?"
"Nothing po."
Very normal breakfast.
Before leaving, I did mano again.
Tita handed me another container.
I stared.
"No."
"Dalhin mo."
"I came here yesterday with food and I'm leaving with food."
"Eh di okay."
"That is not an explanation."
Tita laughed.
"Bigay mo sa Mama mo."
"Yes po."
Then—
"Dalaw ka ulit."
"Opo."
"Wag isang taon."
I smiled.
"Hindi na po."
Tita nodded.
"Good."
I sighed.
Even Tita.
The word had followed me across households.
Jane walked me to the gate.
I held up the container.
"This is your fault."
"How?"
"Your family feeds people aggressively."
"Your Mama sent food yesterday."
"Fair."
She opened the gate.
Then looked at me again.
"Text pag nakauwi."
"I live nearby."
"So?"
"So I'll survive."
She gave me a look.
Right.
Bad wording.
Again.
I winced.
"Sorry."
Jane's expression softened.
"Just text."
"Okay."
"And water."
"Yes."
"Eat lunch."
"I just ate breakfast."
"Later."
I stared.
"You've become unbearable."
"You're welcome."
I started walking.
Then she called—
"Lia."
I turned.
She pointed at her shirt.
"Balik mo."
I looked down.
"No."
"LIA."
I laughed all the way out of the gate.
When I got home, Papa had already left for work.
Mama was cleaning something in the kitchen.
She looked at me.
Then at the container.
Then—
at the shirt.
I froze.
Mama frowned.
"Hindi sayo yan."
Fuck.
"Kay Jane."
"Ah."
That was all.
Thank God Mama was normal.
"She lent it to me."
"Bakit?"
"Wala akong damit."
"Ah."
Again.
Nothing.
No conspiracy.
No romance.
Just clothing logistics.
Beautiful.
Mama took the container.
"Pinauwi?"
"Yes."
"Ano yan?"
"I don't know."
She opened it immediately.
Of course.
Sofia came downstairs.
She saw me.
Stopped.
Looked at the shirt.
Then at my face.
Then back at the shirt.
??
I narrowed my eyes.
She said nothing.
Walked toward the fridge.
"Sofia."
"Hm?"
"Don't."
She opened the fridge.
"I didn't say anything."
"Exactly."
She took water.
Then looked at the shirt one more time.
I pointed.
"It's just a shirt."
"I know."
"Good."
She nodded.
Then—
"Bagay."
And walked away.
I stared after her.
Very smart girl.
Very annoying girl.
I went upstairs.
Opened the door.
Stopped.
The room looked—
worse.
Not because it was dirty.
Because I had spent yesterday somewhere with actual space to breathe.
Now I could see how much business had invaded.
Boxes under the table.
Materials beside the cabinet.
Finished orders on shelves.
Packaging near the printer.
Printer two—
not yet purchased.
Thank God.
But space was already becoming a problem.
I walked sideways between one box and the work table.
"No."
The business had not even become large yet.
And it was already eating my bedroom.
Again.
Literal this time.
I looked around.
This was familiar.
Too familiar.
Original Life had stayed home-based much longer than it should have.
Because rent felt unnecessary.
Because:
Kaya pa.
Kasya pa.
Sayang rent.
So we stacked things.
Then stacked more.
Then the dining area became temporary storage.
Then temporary became months.
Then Mama complained.
Then I negotiated for another room.
Then somehow the house became part warehouse.
Eventually I moved out only when the situation became ridiculous.
I looked at the boxes.
"Nope."
Not again.
My assistant arrived at nine.
They stepped inside.
Then stopped.
"Ma'am."
"What?"
"May box po sa upuan ko."
I looked.
There was.
"Good observation."
They laughed.
"Saan po?"
I moved it onto another box.
The tower leaned slightly.
We both watched it.
My assistant looked at me.
I looked at them.
"This is a problem."
"Opo."
The tower settled.
Okay.
For now.
I sighed.
"Sit."
We started work.
Wedding invitations.
Jewelry packaging.
Notebook orders.
Food labels.
The family orders had accelerated the space problem significantly.
Ate Bianca's three hundred cards alone took up more material than expected.
Kuya Nathan had finally sent the exact food-label details—
after I asked him three times.
He had also computed cost.
Eventually.
Sofia's influence.
Beautiful.
At eleven, my assistant stood to get packaging tape.
They had to move two boxes.
Step around another.
Reach over a stack of paper.
Then return.
I watched.
Terrible workflow.
Original twenty-three-year-old me would have said:
Okay lang.
Current me had spent decades paying people to analyze layouts, warehouse flow, manufacturing efficiency, and process bottlenecks.
This?
Criminal.
"We need space."
My assistant looked around.
"Yes po."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
They looked at me like that was an insane question.
"Room niyo po."
Fair.
Very fair.
I opened rental listings.
Small commercial spaces.
Nearby.
Nothing fancy.
I knew where Original Life's first proper workspace had been.
Of course I did.
Ten minutes away.
Cheap.
Ground floor.
Enough for several tables.
I remembered the exact building.
The landlord.
The deposit.
The annoying leak near the back wall during heavy rain.
The electrical issue we discovered two months after moving in.