Chapter 12 - Apparently, A Type
Sunday should have ended when I got home.
It did not.
Because Jane had internet access.
I had barely changed clothes when my phone buzzed.
Jane.
Found her.
I stared at the message.
Then sat up.
WHAT
A screenshot came next.
Celeste.
Facebook profile.
I stared at the screen.
Then at the ceiling.
Then back at the screen.
Oh, for fuck's sake.
JANE
Her reply came immediately.
There you are
YOU SEARCHED MY FRIEND LIST???
You wouldn't give me the name
THAT WAS THE POINT
I was curious
THAT DOES NOT MAKE THIS BETTER
Three dots appeared.
Then—
Shet.
I waited.
Ang ganda.
I laughed despite myself.
Very.
Another message.
Polished.
Yeah.
Mukhang mayaman.
She is.
Pause.
Then—
Ang ganda talaga.
I stared.
You already said that.
Pretty.
You also said that.
Pretty is an understatement.
I laughed.
Correct.
There.
At least we agreed on something.
Another screenshot arrived.
Not the profile picture this time.
An older photo.
Celeste in a fitted dress at some event.
Clean hair.
Minimal jewelry.
Perfect posture.
Same face I remembered.
Jane:
Excellent nose.
I stared.
WHAT
Ang ganda ng nose niya
Why are you reviewing her facial structure?
I'm observing
Sure
Three dots.
Then—
Very nice legs.
I buried my face in my pillow.
JANE
What
STOP REVIEWING MY FORMER ALMOST-GIRLFRIEND
I'm just saying
You're conducting due diligence
Businesswoman ka kasi. Nahawa ako.
I laughed.
Then another message came.
Okay, gets ko na.
I frowned.
Gets what
Type mo.
I stopped.
I don't have a type.
Immediate response.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
I narrowed my eyes at the phone.
I DON'T
Pretty. Polished. Excellent nose. Nice legs.
I stared.
That was—
uncomfortably specific.
That describes a lot of women.
Sure Lia
It does
Sure
I thought for a second.
Then added—
Also smart.
Jane:
Ah. May additional requirement.
Obviously.
High standards
Why not
Fair
Then, because she was apparently still not finished—
Pero shet ang ganda talaga
I laughed again.
GOODNIGHT JANE
Pretty
GOODNIGHT
Excellent nose
Blocked
Very nice legs
I threw my phone beside me.
Terrible.
Absolutely terrible.
It buzzed again.
I refused to check.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Fine.
I looked.
I understand you now.
I stared.
Then typed:
You understand nothing.
Jane:
Sure.
I put the phone face-down.
Apparently twenty-four was also the age when one of my oldest friends discovered I had a type.
Allegedly.
I did not.
Probably.
Monday morning, I opened the workspace at eight-thirty.
Assistant One was already waiting outside.
Assistant Two arrived five minutes later.
"Good morning po."
"Morning."
I unlocked the door.
Lights.
Fans.
Printers.
Normal.
Beautifully normal.
No existential crisis.
No woman with an excellent nose.
Just work.
Thank God.
The workspace had been running long enough now that the first-day perfection was gone.
Which was good.
Real systems were supposed to survive mess.
There were paper scraps near the cutting station.
One bin had moved because its original location was inconvenient.
Assistant Two had discovered that the packing tape worked better on the right side of the table.
Assistant One had started keeping a small notebook of layout corrections.
Nothing dramatic.
Just people adapting.
I liked that more than a showroom.
At ten, Assistant One brought me a draft.
"Ma'am."
I looked at it.
Certificate layout.
Simple.
Clean.
Two fonts.
No gradient.
I looked up slowly.
They smiled.
"Two fonts lang po."
I almost got emotional.
"Beautiful."
"May shadow po."
I looked again.
Tiny.
Tasteful.
I narrowed my eyes.
They laughed.
"Reasonable shadow."
I stared a little longer.
Fine.
"Approved."
Their face brightened.
"Talaga?"
"Yes."
"Thank you."
Then—
"Pwede ko po gawin final?"
"Do it."
They walked away.
I watched for a second.
Good.
They were improving.
More importantly—
I wasn't taking the mouse from them every time something wasn't exactly how I would've done it.
That was progress too.
Assistant Two was faster now.
Still learning.
But faster.
They had stopped asking where the tape was.
Stopped asking which bin held the sleeves.
Stopped needing reminders to separate rejects.
Routine had started turning into muscle memory.
At one point, I heard Assistant One say—
"Check the name first before you pack."
Assistant Two:
"Opo."
Then—
"If you're unsure, ask."
I smiled at my screen.
There.
The process no longer lived only inside my head.
That mattered more than being the fastest person in the room.
At eleven-thirty, Ate Bianca arrived.
Without warning.
Again.
She walked in carrying coffee.
I looked at the cup.
Then at her.
"What do you want?"
She looked offended.
"Bawal bumisita?"
"You brought coffee."
"So?"
"You want something."
She put the drink on my desk.
"Ang sama mo."
"What do you need?"
She sighed.
"Packaging."
I pointed toward Assistant One.
"Send the details properly."
"Rush."
"No."
"Lia."
"Ate."
"Tomorrow?"
"Quantity?"
"Two hundred."
I checked the schedule.
"Thursday."
"Tagal."
"Then find another supplier."
She stared at me.
I smiled.
She sighed.
"Fine."
Growth.
For both of us.
Before she left, Ate Bianca looked around.
"Ang ayos dito."
"Thanks."
"Pwede talaga maglagay—"
"No."
"Hindiii ko pa sinasabi."
"Still no."
She laughed.
"Grabe."
"Bye, Ate."
"Thursday ha."
"Yes."
"Promise?"
"No. Confirmed schedule."
She stared at me.
"Same thing."
"It is not."
She walked out shaking her head.
Lunch arrived.
Not metaphorically.
Literally.
Kuya Nathan sent food.
I stared at the delivery rider.
Then at the containers.
Message from Kuya Nathan:
Taste test
Of course.
I brought everything to the back table.
Assistant One looked interested.
"Free lunch?"
"Apparently."
Assistant Two:
"From family po?"
"Yes."
They smiled.
"Masarap po lagi."
"Don't encourage him."
We tasted it.
New chicken variation.
Good.
Actually very good.
I messaged Kuya Nathan.
Good. Cost?
He replied:
HAHAHAHAHA
I stared.
Then—
computed already
Beautiful.
Sofia's education continued producing returns.
Margin?
He sent the numbers.
Not bad.
I adjusted one assumption.
Sent it back.
His reply came quickly.
grabe ka lunch lang yan
I typed:
You sent it to a business owner. That's on you.
Around two, Jane messaged.
Busy?
I stared at the notification.
Then remembered last night.
No.
Absolutely not.
I ignored it for thirty seconds.
Then opened the chat.
Working. Why
Nothing
Suspicious.
What
I saw someone
I froze.
No
HAHAHAHA
Jane
Then—
Excellent nose
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
The running joke had survived less than twelve hours.
I hate you.
You created the criteria
YOU created the criteria
I just identified the pattern
There is no pattern
Sure Lia
I put the phone down.
Assistant One looked at me.
"Ma'am?"
"What?"
"Okay lang po?"
"Yes."
Pause.
"Friend."
They nodded.
Fair enough.
Five minutes later, the phone buzzed again.
Jane.
Photo.
Not a person.
A mannequin.
Wearing shorts.
Caption:
Very nice legs
I laughed so suddenly both assistants looked over.
I covered my face.
"Sorry."
Assistant Two smiled.
"Funny po?"
"No."
Yes.
At four, we received an inquiry from a small local business.
Product labels.
Not family.
Not a Jane referral.
Not Ate Patricia.
Someone had seen our work through another customer.
Good.
They wanted a large quantity.
Not huge.
But large enough that twenty-three-year-old me would've immediately said yes.
Current me asked:
Exact size.
Material.
Finish.
Quantity.
Deadline.
Artwork status.
Delivery requirements.
Then I calculated capacity.
Assistant hours.
Material lead time.
Existing orders.
Margin.
Could we do it?
Yes.
Could we do it by the deadline they wanted?
No.
So I sent:
We can accommodate the quantity, but our earliest completion is Friday next week.
They replied—
Need sana Wednesday.
Old Lia:
We can do Wednesday.
Current Lia:
No.
I typed:
I don't want to promise Wednesday and risk delivering late. Friday is the earliest date I can commit to.
Then waited.
Three minutes.
Five.
Finally—
Okay Friday.
I stared.
That simple.
Again.
How many all-nighters had I volunteered for because I assumed every customer deadline was non-negotiable?
Embarrassing.
At five-thirty, we checked tomorrow's queue.
Assistant One had one unfinished layout.
Assistant Two had thirty pieces left to pack.
Both could easily be finished tomorrow.
I looked at the clock.
5:32.
Plenty of time.
Old instincts whispered—
Finish now.
Why leave thirty pieces?
Because those thirty pieces would still exist tomorrow.
Revolutionary.
At five-forty-five, Assistant Two asked—
"Ma'am, tapusin ko na po yung thirty?"
I looked at the clock.
"Can you finish before six without rushing?"
They estimated.
"Maybe po."
Maybe.
"No."
They looked surprised.
"Tomorrow."
"Okay lang po?"
"Yes."
"Konti nalang."
"Exactly. Konti nalang tomorrow."
They smiled.
"Okay po."
I liked that.
No heroics.
No glorifying overtime.
No employees learning that leaving on time meant they weren't dedicated enough.
Six meant six.
Unless the building was on fire.
Then obviously we could leave earlier.
At 5:58, Assistant One shut down the computer.
Assistant Two returned the tools.
At six—
"Bye po, Ma'am."
"Ingat."
They left.
I stayed just long enough to check the doors, windows, plugs, and tomorrow's first order.
6:04.
Not bad.
I locked up.
Outside, I checked my phone.
Group chat.
Chloe:
Sunday ulit?
Jane:
game
Then—
Lia?
I smiled.
Game.
Chloe:
wow consistent
Jane:
Growth
I stared.
You both need hobbies.
Chloe:
this is my hobby
Then Jane messaged privately.
Btw
I knew.
Somehow, I already knew.
No.
I haven't said anything
No.
Three dots.
Then—
Celeste posted new pic
I closed my eyes.
JANE
Pretty
Stop
Excellent nose
Please
Very nice—
BLOCKED
She replied with—
HAHAHAHAHAHA
I put my phone away.
When I got home, Papa hadn't arrived yet.
Mama was in the kitchen.
Sofia was at the table doing schoolwork.
I had no laptop with me.
No folders.
No materials.
No emergency boxes following me home.
Just my bag.
Mama looked up.
"Closed na?"
"Yes."
"Six?"
"Six."
She nodded.
"Good."
I stared.
"You too?"
"What?"
"Nothing."
I sat beside Sofia.
She glanced at me.
"You're early."
"Six is not early."
"For you?"
I stared.
Fair.
She went back to her schoolwork.
"What are you doing?"
"Marketing."
I looked.
Assignment.
Segmentation.
Target market.
Positioning.
I leaned closer.
She immediately covered the page.
"No."
"What?"
"Don't answer."
"I wasn't going to."
"You have the face."
"What face?"
"The I'll fix it face."
I sat back.
Wow.
Everyone knew me too well.
"Fine."
She continued working.
Then after a few seconds—
"Can you explain positioning?"
I smiled.
"That's different."
"Explain. Don't answer."
"Deal."
So I did.
Not like an executive.
Not like someone who had sat through dozens of brand-strategy meetings.
Just—
older sister.
Simple examples.
Why two businesses selling similar products could still target completely different customers.
Why price communicated something.
Why packaging mattered.
Why the same product could feel cheap, practical, premium, or aspirational depending on how you positioned it.
Sofia listened.
Asked questions.
Then corrected something I had oversimplified based on her textbook.
I accepted the correction.
Because apparently BSBA had standards.
Good for her.
Papa came home around six-forty.
Mano.
Dinner.
Normal.
He asked—
"Okay work?"
"Yeah."
"Madami orders?"
"Enough."
"Umuuwi ka six?"
"Yes."
He nodded.
"Good."
I looked at the ceiling.
Apparently good had become the official word of this entire timeline.
After dinner, I went upstairs.
My bedroom looked different now.
Still my desk.
Still my personal things.
Still a few business items because complete separation was impossible.
But no walls of boxes.
No packing station.
No employee chair.
No tower of paper beside my bed.
Space.
Actual space.
I put the power bank Chloe gave me on the table.
The lip balm from Jane beside it.
Sofia's organizer held pens.
Small things.
Ordinary things.
I sat on the bed.
My phone buzzed.
Jane.
I considered ignoring it.
Then opened the message.
A photo.
Not Celeste.
Thank God.
Some random woman from a public post.
Beautiful.
Polished.
Nice hair.
Jane:
?
I stared.
What am I supposed to answer
Evaluation
I laughed.
You're insane.
Pretty?
I looked.
Fine.
Yes.
Polished?
Yes.
Excellent nose?
I zoomed in despite myself.
Fuck.
...yes
Jane:
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
I threw myself backward onto the bed.
I hate this game
Very nice legs?
PHOTO DOESN'T EVEN SHOW HER LEGS
Incomplete data
I laughed.
Finally you're learning proper analysis.
Jane:
So I understand your type
There is no type
Pretty
Goodnight
Polished
Jane
Excellent nose
Blocked
Very nice legs
I stared at the ceiling.
Then at the phone.
Then laughed again.
Maybe I had a type.
No.
Absolutely not.
Correlation did not equal causation.
I had a Science Education degree.
I knew this.
Probably.