by Tara Frejas
Ramon sat up, pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket, and sent Erin a text message.
Sleep tight, Erin.
Let me know if you need anything, okay?
I’ll see you on Monday.
Seven
Erin smiled upon seeing Ramon sitting on the steps of the theatre building again Monday morning, making notes on a piece of paper with a pencil. Before coming here, she stopped by the nearby 7-11 and bought coffee and bola-bola siopao for both of them.
“Hi.”
He squinted when he looked up. “Hey. Good morning.”
“Breakfast?” She shook the coffee carrier and the brown paper bag she carried.
Smiling, Ramon put his stuff away and took the coffee carrier off her hands. “Sweet. Thanks, Erin.” He put one cup on the space between his feet and held the other one for her while she settled in on a spot beside him. “How are you?”
She shrugged. “Good.”
“Did you tell your brother about what happened?”
“Yeah. I asked him to shut up about it, though. I don’t want mom and dad to know…”
“What did he say?”
Erin paused and recalled how Aidan called her Sunday afternoon after she texted him about meeting “a creep at the bar.” Though away for a convention, her brother spent most of his downtime talking to her and helping her process things. A couple of phone calls later, Aidan was already making her laugh with his mean jokes. He promised her a date too, upon his return.
“Lots of things he won’t be able to say in front of mom, for one. He also said I should be more careful next time.” Erin shook her head and scoffed. “Yeah, right—as if there’s going to be a next time.”
Ramon was quiet for a while, focused on mixing cream in his coffee. She saw his jaw twitch a few times, and she felt she said something he didn’t agree with.
“Ramon?”
He turned his head and looked at her. “Hm?”
“Thanks ulit, ha.” She flashed him a peace sign and a faint, apologetic smile. “Labyu.”
Erin couldn’t figure out what Ramon was thinking just by looking at the slight frown on his face. She thought he would finally let go and lecture her about the perils of going out on a date with someone you barely knew, but instead, he put an arm around her and said he loved her too.
Something within her stirred at the words, at the proximity. Raising her eyes, she observed as he blew into his cup of coffee, took a sip, and stared down the street in contemplation. For a moment, Erin allowed herself to admire his side profile. She saw the piercing on his left ear from when he still wore a stud earring back in college, watched the rise and fall of his Adam’s apple, and appreciated the even stubbles that grew on his strong jaw and his chin.
“Hey, I have something to ask you—”
Ramon’s eyes met hers when he looked back at her. Surprised, Erin averted his gaze and pretended to wipe an invisible speck of dust off her red Chuck Taylors.
“Uh, yeah?”
“Do you want to go out on a date with me?”
She paused and looked up at him, laughing softly. “You’re feeling sorry for me aren’t you?”
“No, I really—” He paused as a sleek black SUV with heavily tinted windows slowed in front of the theatre building. Erin and Ramon exchanged curious looks as the driver parked the car in a slot designated for Lakambini artists and guests.
Moments later, Pio stepped out of the car, wearing a dazzling, long-time-no-see sort of grin on his face. “Hey!” he greeted, taking his aviators off and waving at them. “Good morning!”
Ramon got up first, greeting the actor in return. Erin followed suit. She didn’t notice this the first time they met, but Pio’s hair seemed to be dyed a dark blond. He also looked…bigger. Or maybe it was just that he rocked the white v-neck shirt he had on. It hugged his torso nicely, highlighting parts he probably spent hours at the gym for.
“Hi,” Erin said. “I didn’t know you were coming today.”
Pio shrugged. “Me neither. But I got a call from Mamu last night, said she wanted to meet me. I didn’t have anything on my schedule today, so—” He eyed the cups of coffee both Erin and Ramon were holding. “Ah crap, I forgot my caffeine fix.”
Erin offered her coffee cup. “Would you like this? It’s still untouched.”
“Are you sure? I can always drive to a Starbucks—I’m pretty sure I passed one on the way here.”
Ramon nodded. “There’s one at Amorsolo Square a few blocks away.”
“Well, if overpriced coffee is your thing…” Erin trailed off and pretended to drink from her cup. Pio was quick to hold her wrist.
“You make me sound like such a spoiled brat,” he said and relieved her of the cup. “Thank you very much. I owe you.”
The only response she managed was a giggle.
* * *
News arrived with Jericho early that afternoon.
The first one—“AFFA is sending one of their directors, Juliana Gador, to help direct Hanggang Ulap”—was a hit. Everyone was thrilled at the prospect of working with one of the most sought after young directors whose body of work often got recognized in the country and abroad.
It was the second—“Pio Alvez has expressed interest in joining the show and will be coming to the open auditions”—that received a more lukewarm response.
“Haven’t we tried inviting him to Lakambini several times?” Kai asked, raising her feather pen up in the air.
Mark shook his head. “Never showed up, not even once.”
“Well, movie stars have difficult schedules,” Jericho pointed out with a shrug. “Maybe this time he’s not so busy.”
But while there were some who seemed enthused, the rest weren’t. The war room was suddenly divided into two factions: those who believed Pio Alvez was a true theatre talent, and those who dismissed him as a complete sellout.
“You can’t deny Pio’s selling power,” Hiraya said, matter-of-factly. “Everyone who passes through EDSA on a daily basis gets to see his face on the billboards. His face alone is going to sell tickets!”
“And it’s not like he’s a bad actor,” Erin added. “Having him in this production might be what Lakambini needs to get back on its feet. And you have to agree—we need more people coming to the theatre.”
Some of the company members were still not on board with this idea, and Erin couldn’t really blame them. Two productions ago, they worked with a popular movie actress who had exhausted everyone’s patience with her primadonna attitude. To say they were burned was an understatement.
The only consolation Erin had was that Pio practically grew up in the theatre. His family may be affluent and influential, but she refused to believe Pio wasn’t subjected to the same discipline anyone who’s ever done theatre went through. He should know the proper way to conduct himself if he didn’t want to get kicked out of the production. Or get talked about behind his back. If you wanted to thrive in the theatre community, talent was not enough. You needed to play nice with the other kids too.
Jericho raised both hands and gestured for them to bring it down a notch. “All right, guys. Settle down. Let’s give Pio a chance, okay?” He strode to the door and pushed it open. “Pio? Would you come in here please?”
Uncomfortable silence blanketed the room as Pio stepped in, wearing his usual, boyish smile.
Oh, dear. Did he hear the entire debate from the other side of the door?
If he did, he never let it show. And in the next ten minutes, Erin understood why the young actor succeeded wherever his career path took him. Pio’s charm and good looks weren’t the only things going for him. He was confident and knew how to use his charm to command everyone’s attention. He knew how to make people laugh and even knew a little bit of information about everyone in the room, like which shows they worked on or the merits each one was known for.
It was as though he knew people were going to be testy, and he prepared so damn well for it Erin was willing to bet someone was alre
ady thinking of inviting him for a round of drinks.
“So—enough about me,” Pio said with a laugh. “I want to get to know you guys a little more too.”
“I’m sure Chinee doesn’t mind ogling you for an hour more,” Kai quipped. A highlighter went flying across the table, and laughter erupted inside the room.
It was Mark who introduced himself first, followed by Kai and everyone else. Pio went around, shaking hands with and hugging everybody like he was in some sort of celebrity meet-and-greet. Hiraya took the floor afterward and brought Pio up to speed with the developments regarding the production.
“You’ve read the script, I hope?” Hiraya asked.
“Oh definitely, many times. I can’t wait to hear the arrangements.” Pio grinned at both Hiraya and Jericho. “I heard the auditions are in two weeks?”
“Yes.”
“Awesome.” He pulled out his phone and started swiping on the screen. “My teleserye is wrapping up next week, and I haven’t accepted any other offers yet—which means I’m all yours for the next couple of months. I’ll be here for auditions.”
“Great—we’ll see you then!”
* * *
Earphones plugged in and completely tuned out from the rest of the world, Erin failed to notice Pio sitting beside her at the theatre building’s front steps. She only turned her head when she felt a light tap on her shoulder.
Erin had met a number of handsome men before (and even kissed some of them on stage), but Pio’s brand of good-looking was striking to her. Maybe it’s because he didn’t have an arrogant air to him, unlike some. Maybe it’s because he was so generous with his sunny smile.
Or maybe it’s because Trainman’s All the Way played in Erin’s ears, providing a pretty little soundtrack to the moment.
“I’m sorry?” she asked, seeing his lips move and not understanding what he was saying.
Her heart skipped a beat when Pio lifted a hand toward her cheek—What is happening, oh my god!—reached for the earphone cord and tugged gently. Erin touched her earlobe, suddenly self-conscious.
“I was asking why you’re still here. And all by yourself too.”
She stammered and avoided his eyes on purpose when she said she was waiting for Ramon. She was a fan of making eye contact, but looking into Pio’s eyes for long stretches of time was too much.
“Why are you still here? I thought you went home after the meeting.”
“Mamu and I had a lively conversation about the ‘rents. Didn’t even notice the time.”
“Oh.” She pulled the other earphone out of her ear and spun the cord around her fingers.
“So—I’ll see you at the auditions?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be here. Most probably assisting or something.”
“Wait. Assisting?”
“Yeah. I’m not auditioning for this one. Taking a break.”
Wait, is he sad? Pio seemed disappointed hearing those words, and he confirmed it, saying, “Bummer. I thought I finally had a shot at performing with you.”
As Erin’s heart threatened to jump out of her chest, she reminded herself that Pio was probably only being polite. She allowed herself to feel elated, though. Briefly, she felt as though she was taking a bow in front of a sold-out crowd where every single audience member was giving her a standing ovation.
“Wow. Yeah, w-well...” Her cheeks felt warm now. “Maybe some other time.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
After a few seconds of dead air, Pio spoke up again. “So—if I can’t get that chance to be with you on stage, can I at least ask you out to dinner?”
She stared at him in disbelief.
“Okay.” He let out an embarrassed laugh. “You probably have a boyfriend, I’m sorry.”
“What, no—” Do I actually look like I have a boyfriend? “I was just...are you sure?”
“About?”
“Asking me out.”
“Of course. Why would I joke about that?”
“But why?”
“Do I need to explain why I want a date with a pretty girl?”
An obnoxious laugh escaped Erin. This is a joke, isn’t it? She even craned her neck to see if anyone was hiding behind the theatre lobby’s glass panels, waiting for her to fall for the prank. She’d place her bet on Jericho who loved playing pranks on her ever since her rookie days.
“Kuya Jer, stop playing!” she yelled. “It’s not funny.”
“I think Jericho’s still upstairs.”
“Who put you up to this?”
“What do you mean?”
She fixed her eyes on him this time and studied the expression on his face. He looked sincere enough, but the fact that Pio was a good actor didn’t really help his case.
“No, really…why are you asking me out? Is this some sort of initiation thing?”
“No.”
Erin narrowed her eyes at him and waited for a punch line.
“Just one date?” Pio pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. “I promise to make it worth your while.”
Was this the universe’s way of making it up to her for the disaster that was Saturday? Erin liked to think it was. What the heck, right? It’s just one date.
“Okay.” Erin took the phone and keyed in her number.
He rang her as soon as she returned his phone and asked her to save his number. “I’ll call you,” Pio said, tapping the phone in his palm. “I just have to check with my manager if I have anything on my schedule next weekend.”
There was an energy in his voice that told Erin he was excited about this, and she couldn’t help but be thrilled as well. They spent a few more minutes chatting about this and that, and then he had to say goodbye. Her skin tingled when he leaned in and brushed his cheek against hers.
“Good night, Erin. I’ll see you soon.”
Eight
One week to audition day
“You know what, let’s try something.”
Ramon was standing in front of the dressing room mirror, rehearsing his audition song for the nth time when Erin appeared behind him. He looked over his shoulder and sighed. “You really should stop creeping up on me like that.”
“But it’s so much fun!” Erin said, giggling. She stepped inside the room and threw a casual glance at the messy dresser table where Ramon kept his music sheets, study CDs, and other things. “I heard you down the hall and thought to stop by.”
“Ah. What did you want to try?”
“Feel it,” she simply said.
“What?”
“Feel the song. Don’t just sing it. Your technique is good, but it’s lacking…something.”
A smirk appeared on Ramon’s face. “Are you going to be my vocal coach now?”
“Pfft. I’m not qualified to be a vocal coach.” Erin pulled up a chair for Ramon and motioned for him to sit. “But I can be your fairy godmother.”
He laughed and took a seat. “You’re going to whip up a gown for me?”
“If that’s what you want.” She pulled up another chair and sat in front of him. Sitting face to face, close enough that their knees touched, Ramon almost forgot to breathe.
“Okay, listen.” Erin nicked the music sheet he was holding and read through his notes. “If you were singing that song in a singing contest, your technique’s enough to win you second place...”
“Wow. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Oh, trust me—I’m being nice. If it were Mamu, she’d tell you you have no business being on stage because your singing has no heart.”
Ramon felt unsettled at this revelation. Of course, he only knew Mamu for a few days, but he already deemed her as someone unable to dish out harsh comments. He pictured her being all gentle and motherly to the Lakambini kids; he supposed he was mistaken.
“Mamu was the first person from Lakambini who made me cry,” Erin narrated, as though sensing his disbelief. “I was in a musical theatre workshop and she asked me to sing. She stopped me before I could eve
n reach the chorus.”
Erin mimicked the theatre director’s voice. “Erin, how long have you been studying this piece? Where is the passion? Where is the heart? I can’t feel you!”
A weak laugh escaped Ramon, imagining how heartbroken she must’ve felt. Tenderhearted Erin shed tears easily, just like she did back in college when she couldn’t master her footwork even after hours and hours of rehearsal. Or when she thought she had to kiss her audition goodbye when she sprained her ankle. She only stopped crying when he bought a couple of ice cream bars from the canteen; he gave her one bar to eat, and the rest he used to keep her ankle from swelling.
“Of course, Mamu was only being honest. And brutally so.” Erin continued. “When I came here, I was so confident that my skills were more than enough. I told myself I was going to headline all the musicals! God, I was so wrong.”
“But you still made it. You’ve always had a knack for making things happen.”
“Thanks to you. And Ate Hiraya, who was super patient with me.” Erin glanced at Ramon’s music sheet one last time and set it aside. “Ate H was also the one who sat me down and told me to win her over with a song, to make her believe what I’m feeling. Otherwise, why would anyone spend a couple of hundred pesos to see me half-ass something on stage, right? They’d probably choose to stay at home and watch cable TV instead.”
“So what you’re saying is…”
“You need to make me believe what you’re telling me through your song.”
He let out a long sigh. “Okay, I got it.”
Erin crossed her arms in front of her chest and leaned back. “So...go ahead.”
“Oh.” Ramon jerked an eyebrow. “You…want me to sing now? Like this?”
“Theatre audiences do sit a little further from the stage, but let’s start with baby steps. Win me over. Like this.”
Jesus Christ. All at once, the dressing room seemed to close in on him, suffocating him. Ramon cleared his throat and rubbed his sweaty palms against his jeans.
“Are you nervous?”
“Uh…”
“Hey.” She took his hands and squeezed. “It’s just me.”
This was where she was mistaken. To Ramon, Erin Javier wasn’t just anyone, like the audition song he picked wasn’t just any song.