Songs to Make You Stay (Playlist Book 3)

by Jay E. Tria

  Jill smiled. “Good, yes.”

  “Tadaima,” Shinta declared. That extra note of permanence, of conviction in his voice sounded good to him. “I’m home.”

  “Okaeri.” She spoke the foreign word with the most adorable lilt of her tongue. “Welcome back.”

  December 18, Friday, night

  Performing the monologue from Hamlet was very much like climbing his girlfriend’s balcony in the middle of the night. Midway through, Shinta asked himself what sorcery had deluded him into thinking he could do it. Turn back, turn back, you blubbering idiot was the mantra screaming inside the hallowed halls of his head. But with a hard shove and courage so blind, it was hilarious he was able to power through.

  Jill stood to his right, leaning against Doozy’s dessert display like a rock star. She straddled the line between the front of the room where light was blinding him, and the rest of the cafe-bar’s packed space that was covered in darkness.

  There was a certain disequilibrium with the effect of that on him—of her eyes on him, and his on her face half-hidden in shadow, as he declaimed the classic soliloquy. Her smile, how she mouthed the words she’d memorized with him, and the languid way she held her weight against the counter, were encouraging. The fluid lines of her limbs, her leg crossing over the other and back, on the one hand, were distractions that he could have done without as he suffered through the poetry of the pangs of despised love and law’s delay.

  At the last word of the act, Son burst from his seat, sparking applause from the rest of the room. Shinta smiled and bowed. As he made his way to his friends’ table, he caught a few people frozen where they sat, the words what the hell was that plain on their faces. Shinta chuckled. Maybe he should have chosen a more festive piece for a Shakespeare-themed spoken word night so close to Christmas. Or a more festive theme for the night, period. Obviously he had a lot to learn about the events he and Jill were putting together.

  “Weirdly enough, that piece got to me,” Nino told Shinta when he reached their table. “I felt it. I almost understood it.”

  “Did you do this Shakespeare night thing because you felt bad about missing that play in London?” Son blurted out, his mouth in a teasing leer.

  “Maybe to stay sharp.” Shinta clocked his own grin as he found his space beside Jill. “The director said to call him whenever I’m ready. That was really nice of him to say. It won’t be tomorrow though.”

  “Actors.” Nino squinted darkly at him. “It will take a while before your sparkle dies down, won’t it?”

  “I don’t think it will. Ever,” Miki said, raising his bottle to Shinta.

  “You know I was friends with an actress once,” Son put in.

  Nino snickered into his drink. “Right.”

  Jill bumped her cheek against Shinta’s shoulder as he settled on the pink leather seat beside her, dropping a small kiss there. She turned back to Son. “I do not know this story. Do tell.”

  Son moved his eyes around the table, gaze touching each upturned face before he lifted his chin and released his declaration. “She loved me, you know.”

  Kim’s eyebrows met in the air, legs crossed and swaying in a lazy tempo. “This isn’t a real story.”

  “We told you, Son. Dreams are not real.” Miki reached over to give Son’s arm a few gentle taps. “No matter how many nights in a row you’ve had them.”

  “It is too a real story. She’s my childhood friend from the province. Back in Hagonoy.” Son paused, waiting for comprehension to dawn on his friends’ faces. “Have I never shared this story? It’s a good story. Her name is Alice.”

  Shinta raised his hand. “I know an actress named Alice.”

  Jill’s eyebrows met in mid-air. “How?”

  “I’ve been asking around looking for actresses for the next Doozy Spoken Word night, romance edition,” he explained. “Because somebody refuses to read with me again.”

  All eyes swiveled to Jill, each set bearing varying degrees of amused accusation.

  Jill exhaled a dramatic sigh—the full extent of her dramatics, as she’d told Shinta. “Humans have limitations.” She turned her evil eyes on him. “How many times do we have to go through this?”

  “Anyway.” Shinta chuckled, starting a run of pacifying circles down her back. “Mother has a friend who knows people. Led me to Alice. She’s really good.”

  “Girl about yay high?” Son put his hand by his chin. “Round face but pointy chin, hair that stands up like a wiry bush when let loose? Tiny scar below her lip?”

  “I didn’t look close enough to see a scar,” Shinta admitted. “But everything else sounds about right.”

  Shinta was sure Son had heard him, but he didn’t think he heard anything else beyond that.

  “Alice,” Son murmured, the short syllables floating out in one long breath as he stared ahead, farther than the cement wall before him.

  Nino craned his head to look at his friend. He snapped his fingers twice in front of Son’s face, snapped them to a flashy beat, but Son remained in his state of comatose. “Uh-oh. Son has shut down. Kim, what do we do?”

  “Grab one arm. I’ll take the other.” Kim stood up and started yanking Son upright. Clearly, this wasn’t the first time this had happened. “We have to go, guys,” Kim said to the rest of the table as he and Nino towed Son toward the exit. “The gig in Commute is in two hours and holiday traffic is not the kindest bitch in the city.”

  “Go on,” Miki said, shooing them away with his beer bottle. “We’re right behind you.”

  When the three boys had disappeared through the crowd, Jill returned her attention to Miki. “Beer is still half-full?”

  “Or half-empty, if you’re being optimistic.” Miki grinned.

  “Afraid you’ll have froth squirting out of your nose like the last time you drank too fast?”

  “Yep. That’s the fear.”

  Jill grinned back, toasting her bottle with her best friend’s, then with Shinta’s, before helping herself to the last few swigs. “Where’s Ana?”

  Miki stuffed his face with fish crackers and washed them down with the rest of his drink. “Stuck in school for the night. Some ridiculous thing that isn’t due until after New Year.”

  Shinta and Jill pulled faces. “Ech,” they chorused.

  “I know, right?”

  Jill snorted. “Whatever, Mikhail. Don’t you ‘I know, right’ me. I know what you’re really up to.”

  Shinta leaned forward, knowing this too. Recently, he had been bonding with Miki over school things. Stranger times had come upon them. “How’s the application for your master’s degree going?”

  “I hate filling out forms and studying for tests.” Miki stuck his tongue out, but his easy grin ruined the face he was trying to pull. “So it’s going really well, I’d say.”

  “Maybe I’ll see you around campus when school starts next year.” Shinta flashed him a grin. “That would be weird but also kind of cool.”

  “Okay.” Miki nodded slowly. There was a split second’s glance he exchanged with Jill before he extended his hand to Shinta. “I look forward to it. Good luck with the entrance exam.”

  Shinta clasped Miki’s hand in a firm shake. “You too.”

  Miki dropped his empty bottle on the table. “We really have to get going now. You know what the holidays do to traffic. It’s like—” and he opened his mouth in a silent scream, eyes popping out, and hands flailing over his head.

  Jill slapped his cheek lightly, making him stop. “Go on ahead, you dork. We’re right behind you.”

  Miki’s eyes folded into thin lines. “Whatever, Jillian Marie. Don’t be late. Who else do you expect me to point my guitar at?” He muttered a final grumble and stalked off.

  Shinta was watching Miki get swallowed by the crowd, so he didn’t realize that Jill was peering up at him until she flicked his chin with the back of her hand.

  She gave him a smile. Her secret smile. Not the kind that he had to coax out of the corner of her lips, or t
he one that curled up, moving with the ironic glint of her eyes. It was the kind that came slowly, much like how embers grow into flame. It was brand new too, a sight he’d been catching more often as his days in Manila folded into weeks. And he knew it was only for him.

  “I told Lala I have to run to Commute before she closes for the night,” Jill said, fingers closing around his arm. “Maybe she needs you to stay?”

  “No way. I told her I’m going with you.” Shinta’s eyes roamed the packed space. Figures were huddled around clusters of open bottles and bowls of peanuts. Stray bodies swayed to the lazy pulse of his non-Christmas playlist, some leaning against the shelves, prying open books in the dim light as their heads bopped to the beat. Everything looked set for the night. “Besides, I told that producer guy I’ll meet with him at Commute.”

  “Is this for the commercial for that new chicken-and-beer place?”

  “No, that one’s all set. We’re shooting after New Year. This is for that web series they’re considering me for.”

  “What about filming that movie in Japan? The one your father called you three times for last week.”

  “I said no. I’ve said no plenty of times. I told him to stop dangling those things in my face, if only for a while.” Akio the stubborn, the unyielding. Shinta should have known it would take more than one tipsy lunch to convince that man to leave him alone. “I don’t think he understands the seriousness of me going to college. I haven’t been locked in a classroom in nearly a decade. My brain needs all this time and space to get used to things.”

  Jill nodded, a frown etched on her forehead. “And you’re already doing a lot of things.”

  “I didn’t move here to relax, woman.”

  “I can see that.”

  “I’m not going to be a bum.”

  “Not at all.”

  “You wouldn’t be with a bum. You don’t deserve a bum.”

  “Right on. Come here for a while.”

  Shinta allowed himself to sink into her arms, his nose fitting against the arc of her neck, one leg captured between both of hers. He settled into this tangled embrace, relishing the release of a long, leisurely breath, knowing this was how days should end.

  Jill’s days were full and her nights were long, and now these were his days and nights too, and they were going to end like this. With beats of shared silence, breaths warm against cheek and skin. With thoughts that swam through the events of the past few hours, of things accomplished and fresh memories set in stone. Best of all, with thoughts that had the leisure to make plans, to see limitless tomorrows.

  Jill prodded his cupid’s bow with her thumb. “Don’t worry too much, okay? I’m here. I got you.” She echoed words he’d once told her with the same tremor, on a night much like tonight.

  His lips moved to smile at her touch. “I’m not worried.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Oh, nothing.” He grinned up at her. He kissed the cleft of her chin, and angled up so he could catch her lips. “I know we don’t like to talk about forever, but I’d like to have you for a long, long time.”

  Come inside

  We burn in the heat of summer

  The sun is blinding

  The leaves, our dreams are brittle

  But you make the sky better

  Take my fears

  And seal them here in a bottle

  With drops of rain

  My name, your urgent whispers

  You make the sky better

  It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chill

  Sometimes I lose to the fear

  But you swear

  Here you say

  “You’re my favorite part of December,

  You make the sky better.”

  Kiss me here

  Pledge me all your tomorrows

  Take my hand

  Where I go, won’t you follow?

  You make the sky better

  It’s a once-in-a-season wind

  Sometimes it takes me away

  But you stay here

  And you say

  “You’re my favorite part of December

  You make the sky better.”

  You are my favorite part of December

  You make the sky better. (Jill)

  The End

  Acknowledgments

  This story was brought to you by monsoon season in the Philippines, and the feelings and songs that came with every blast of rain. Specific thank yous below:

  Ines, for being the teacher and the manang that I needed. Thank you for your emotional investment (haha) from the cover to the first page all through the last.

  Layla, for loving these book people like I do, and for helping me see Shinta’s story through his last starring role. Tin, Agay, Caryn, Liwen, and Six, for your patience with the first draft, rough edges and awkward words and all. Tara, Anne, Miren, Marian, and Dawn for the pompoms. So important to have people like you waving pompoms while I’m trying to survive this writing thing.

  Yuki, for being real and a real sport. Hazel, for accepting the challenge and being awesome at it. Tania, for your usual magic. Miles, for your new magic.

  Mina and #romanceclass, because you make dreams come true.

  Mother, for asking if I had a new book out. That conversation was short and awkward but also kind of great. Yes, this is the new book. No, I still don’t think you should read it.

  Tin, again, for asking for this, and for always saying you’re Shinta’s fan. Also, thanks to you and Ian for being my Cebu tour guides (chocolate buffet, please). This one is for you.

  And of course to you reading this. After Songs of Our Breakup I felt like Miki and Shinta had their own stories to tell. If you’ve read Songs to Get Over You, this book is basically what Shinta has been up to while Miki was knee-deep in his own problems. I hope the feelings were well worth your time. There’s still Son, Nino, and Kim with their own playlists to share. Someday soon, for sure.

  To God be the glory always.

  Love, Jay

  About the Author

  Jay E. Tria is inspired by daydreams, celebrity crushes, a childhood fascination of Japanese drama and manga, and an incessant itch to travel. She writes contemporary young adult and new adult romance. Sometimes, paranormal fantasy too. Visit her website at www.jayetria.com.

  Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Wattpad, Pinterest: jayetria

  jayetria@gmail.com

  Books by Jay

  Playlist Series: Songs of Our Breakup | Songs to Get Over You | Songs to Make You Stay | That Thing Called Closure

  Young Adult/Manga novel: Blossom Among Flowers

  Young Adult/Urban Fantasy: Majesty

  Don’t know yet what Miki was up to while Shinta was having his own problems? Turn the page for an excerpt from Miki’s book, Songs to Get Over You.

  Excerpt from Songs to Get Over You

  September 7, Monday, night

  There she was, looking up at the dark velvet sky, her intent gaze demanding for stars.

  I knew it, thought Miki. His steps were light and even, sneaker soles crunching a soft rhythm on the gravel floor of the parking lot. But even from this distance, he saw Jill close her eyes, her slim back balanced on the hood of her lime green Beetle. He knew she heard him approach.

  Miki trod past two more rows of old sedans, new SUVs, and a guitarist or two from a band he knew until he reached her. He slid on top of the hood next to her, nudging her elbow. The solo act before them had just started his set. He was in no hurry.

  “How long have you been out here?” he spoke to her ear.

  Jill kept her eyes shut. Miki could count the whispers of her lashes. “Over an hour. Maybe two.”

  “Counting stars?”

  “Waiting for the star I own to fall so I can catch it.”

  “Ech.” Miki groaned, pulling a face.

  “Too cheesy?”

  He nodded. “Even for you.”

  Jill laughed, a soft giggle she released with the back of her hand against her lips.
She turned to him, dark eyes bright and dancing. Miki’s breath locked in his throat. He hadn’t seen Jill like this before. Not when she was with Kim. Well, she had been happy then too for the most part. But Jill’s happiness now looked unique to Miki.

  She still enjoyed her long stretches of silence, still found ways to escape Miki’s company to carve out the hours she would spend alone. Maybe with a book, or with Julia, her seafoam green Les Paul guitar. Mostly while lying with her back flat on the hood of her car, counting distant spotlights in the sky. These were habits she had picked up since her breakup with Kim.

  During her breakup probation period, Miki remembered.

  But she had lost the dark shadows under her eyes, and the distant look of her gaze. The tips of her fingers had lost their cold touch, along with other traces of sadness. It had been three months, and Jill’s glow had not waned.

  It was easy to return her bright smile, even as a vivid image of the source of her joy flashed in Miki’s mind.

  “Did Shinta say when he’s finally flying in?” Even in Miki’s grudging thoughts, Shinta was still too handsome for his self-esteem.

  That’s when Jill frowned. She closed her eyes again, one arm draped across her forehead. “I don’t know. Ask him. Lousy jerk.”

  Miki smirked, nudging her with his elbow. “I thought he was done with his press junkets? And that shoot for that commercial for…what was that again?”

  “Underwear.”

  Of course.

  They sighed as one, and Miki thought, for the same reason.

  Jill opened her eyes to glare at the empty sky. “And a more PG one for canned juice, then there was one for chewable vitamin C. Then he had a couple of photo shoots for magazine covers. And about a bazillion interviews.”

  Shinta had left for Japan three months ago to shoot a new movie, taking Jill with him. The band was in Singapore at the time for a music festival. Jill was supposed to see Shinta off at the airport and fly back to Manila with them the next day.