Chapter Text
Mikha leaned back in her car, the hum of her engine filling the quiet of the parking lot. It had been a slow day—only three bookings so far—and yet she hadn't accepted another ride in over an hour. She told herself it was because she needed a break, but really, she was just... waiting.
For what, she couldn't admit, not even to herself.
It had been days since the night at The Back Room, and no matter how much Mikha tried to push it aside, her mind kept circling back to Aiah. She could still hear the warm cadence of her laugh, see the way her dimples appeared when she smiled, or how she'd casually leaned in close, her perfume and the faint smell of smoke lingering between them.
It was maddening.
Mikha had always prided herself on being logical, grounded, but with Aiah, she felt like she was spinning in circles. She didn't even know her, not really. Just a handful of moments, shared drinks, and one stolen cigarette. That was it. So why did she feel like she couldn't shake her?
Her phone sat in the cupholder, silent and still, just as it had been all week. No notifications, no texts, no sign of Aiah.
Mikha sighed, running a hand through her hair. Get a grip, Mikha. It was just a random night. Stop acting like a lovesick teenager.
But no matter how much she scolded herself, her brain betrayed her. She caught herself glancing at her phone more often than she cared to admit. She found herself driving slower around BGC, her eyes scanning the sidewalks and cafe patios, hoping for a glimpse of emerald green or the sharp tilt of Aiah's jawline.
It was ridiculous. She knew that. And yet...
Her friends had noticed, of course. They always did.
"You okay, Mikhs?" Gwen had asked over dinner the other night, her tone casual but her eyes sharp with curiosity.
"I'm fine," Mikha had said quickly, poking at her plate with her fork.
"You don't look fine," Colet chimed in, smirking. "You look like someone who's been haunted."
"Haunted by what?" Mikha asked, glaring.
"By someone, more like," Colet teased, nudging her arm.
"Guys, stop," Mikha had muttered, her voice sharper than she intended. "I'm just tired, okay?"
That had earned her a round of laughter. "Mikha, you're working half the hours you used to," Gwen said, grinning. "Tired from what? Driving?"
They didn't buy her excuses, of course, but Mikha had been too annoyed—and too embarrassed—to press the issue. Because the truth was, they were right. She wasn't tired. She was... distracted.
And the more days passed without a word from Aiah, the more Mikha began to wonder if she'd just imagined the connection they'd shared. Maybe to Aiah, it was just a fun night out with a stranger. Maybe Mikha had read too much into the lingering looks, the soft smiles, the teasing comments.
"God, you're pathetic," Mikha muttered to herself, grabbing her phone and opening the Grab app. She hovered over the "Contact Previous Passenger" button for longer than she cared to admit. Would it be weird? Definitely. Desperate? Probably.
She closed the app with a frustrated sigh, tossing her phone back into the cupholder. Get a grip, Mikha.
A few more days passed, and Mikha resigned herself to the idea that she wouldn't hear from Aiah again. She threw herself into her routine—driving passengers, spending nights in with her friends, trying not to linger too long in the places she thought Aiah might be.
/
It was a quiet weekday evening when it happened.
Mikha was parked outside a cafe, scrolling aimlessly through her phone while waiting for her next booking, when a text popped up from an unknown number.
Hi. Are you around BGC?
Her heart stopped. She stared at the screen, her brain scrambling to process what she was seeing. Then, a second message followed:
It's Aiah.
Mikha's pulse quickened. She read the text again, and then again, as if it might disappear if she blinked too hard. Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard, unsure of what to say. Play it cool, Mikha. Don't be weird.
She started typing. Hi. Yeah, I'm around. Then deleted it. Too abrupt.
Hi, Aiah! Been a while. She deleted that too. Too eager.
Finally, she settled on: Hi. Yeah, I'm in the area. Why, what's up?
She hit send and immediately regretted it. Was that too casual? Too vague? She didn't have time to spiral, though, because Aiah replied almost instantly.
Can you pick me up?
Mikha's heart skipped. She wasn't sure why—it wasn't like Aiah asking for a ride meant anything—but still, her pulse quickened.
Sure, where are you?
A few seconds later, Aiah sent her a location—a small boutique hotel tucked away in one of BGC's quieter streets. Mikha was only five minutes away.
On my way, she replied, her hands trembling slightly as she started the car.
The boutique hotel was quiet when Mikha arrived, the street dimly lit by a single streetlamp. She pulled up to the curb, her fingers tapping nervously against the steering wheel.
Aiah was already waiting, leaning casually against the stone facade of the building. She was dressed simply in a loose white button-up and fitted jeans, her hair falling in soft waves around her face. She looked more relaxed than Mikha had ever seen her, and yet just as striking.
Mikha rolled down the passenger window, trying to keep her voice steady. "Need a ride?"
Aiah smiled, that same faint curve of her lips that always seemed to disarm Mikha completely. "Something like that," she said, pushing off the wall and walking toward the car.
As she slid into the passenger seat, Mikha felt her chest tighten. The air between them was charged, but neither of them said anything right away. Aiah glanced at Mikha, her smile softening.
"Thanks for coming," she said quietly.
Mikha shrugged, gripping the wheel tightly. "It's what I do. You know, professional driver and all."
Aiah laughed, her dimples flashing, and Mikha felt her heart skip. She cursed herself silently. Goddamn those dimples.
"So," Mikha said, trying to sound casual. "Where to?"
Aiah hesitated, her eyes flicking to the dashboard. "No destination in mind," she said softly. "Just... drive."
Mikha glanced at her, surprised. "You sure?"
Aiah nodded. "Yeah. I just... I need to clear my head."
Mikha hesitated for only a moment before shifting the car into gear. "Alright," she said, her voice steady. "Let's drive."
And as they pulled away from the curb, the quiet city streets stretching out before them, Mikha couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of something she couldn't quite name.
/
The streets of BGC were quiet as Mikha drove, the soft glow of the streetlights flickering through the windshield. The low hum of the car engine filled the silence between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Mikha kept her eyes on the road, though she couldn't help but glance at Aiah from time to time. She sat with one elbow resting on the window, gazing out at the city lights, her face partially turned away.
For a moment, Mikha debated whether to break the silence or just let it stretch.
"Saan tayo, exactly?" Mikha asked finally, her voice casual. "O plano mo ba akong paikot-ikutin sa buong BGC hanggang maubos gas ko?"
Aiah turned her head slightly, her lips curling into a faint smile. "Sorry. Hindi ko naisip 'yun," she said, looking a little sheepish. "I just needed to get out for a bit."
Mikha risked a glance at her, her heart thudding at the faint dimple that appeared on Aiah's cheek when she smiled. "Walang problema. Basta huwag ka lang umabot ng probinsya, ha. Medyo malayo 'yun." She winced slightly at her own awkward attempt at humor. God, Mikha, stop rambling.
Aiah chuckled softly, and Mikha swore it was the best sound she'd heard in weeks. "Thanks. Na-appreciate ko," Aiah said, leaning back slightly.
They lapsed into silence again, the quiet hum of the engine filling the space between them. But then Aiah spoke, her voice softer this time.
"Actually, dapat siguro mag-apologize ako," she started, her gaze shifting toward Mikha.
Mikha frowned, glancing at her. "Mag-apologize? Para saan?"
"For being M.I.A.," Aiah said, her voice tinged with hesitation. She turned slightly to face Mikha, her expression sincere. "I know it's been a few days since that night, and dapat siguro nag-text ako agad."
Mikha felt a small pang in her chest at the words. She tried to play it cool, shrugging as she let out a soft laugh. "Wag mong isipin 'yun. Okay lang talaga," she said, hoping her voice sounded steadier than she felt. "Hindi naman ako naghihintay or anything."
That was a lie, of course. Mikha had been waiting—checking her phone far too often, overanalyzing every silence. But she wasn't about to admit that, especially not now.
Aiah tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she didn't quite believe her. "Sigurado ka?" she asked, her tone teasing but gentle. "Parang hindi ka 'yung tipo na basta lang nagpapalampas ng bagay."
Mikha raised an eyebrow, keeping her focus on the road. "Marami ka nang assumptions, ha. After what, four encounters?"
Aiah smirked, leaning back in her seat. "Am I wrong, though?"
Mikha couldn't help but smile faintly. "Maybe not entirely."
Aiah nodded, as if satisfied with her answer. "Okay, pero still," she continued, her tone softening. "Ang totoo, I've been all over the place this week. Ang daming trabaho. Ang daming iniisip. Pero... I kept thinking about that night."
Mikha's grip on the steering wheel tightened, her heart racing slightly. "Talaga?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Aiah nodded, her gaze dropping to her lap. "Oo. Kaya nga gusto kitang makita ulit. Pero... hindi ko alam kung magiging weird." She glanced up at Mikha, her smile a little sheepish. "And also... medyo unconventional 'yung way na binigay mo 'yung number mo."
Mikha let out a laugh, relieved by the lighter turn in the conversation. "Yeah, sorry about that," she said, shaking her head. "Not exactly smooth, huh?"
"Charming," Aiah said, smirking. "Pero chaotic."
"Charming," Mikha repeated, grinning. "I'll take it."
Their laughter eased the tension in the car, and for a moment, everything felt lighter. But then Aiah's expression shifted again, her brows furrowing slightly.
"May isa pa akong dapat i-apologize," she said, her voice quieter now.
Mikha glanced at her, confused. "Ano na naman?"
"For assuming na free ka ngayong gabi," Aiah said, her voice tinged with guilt. "I mean, literally tumawag lang ako out of nowhere and expected you to drop everything. Hindi ata fair 'yun."
Mikha shook her head, stealing a quick glance at her before focusing on the road again. "Aiah, seriously. Don't worry about it. I'm just driving around anyway. Hindi naman full schedule ko or anything."
"I know," Aiah said, leaning forward slightly. "Pero alam mo 'yun? You're not a personal chauffeur. I'm taking up your time, and at least man lang dapat bayaran kita for the trip."
"Ano ba," Mikha interrupted, turning to her briefly with a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it, okay? Hindi ko naman kinocompute 'yung meter ngayon."
Aiah studied her for a moment, her gaze steady. Then she leaned back again, exhaling softly. "You're too nice."
Mikha let out a laugh. "Hindi rin. Selective lang ako sa mga taong pinapayagan kong sumakay nang libre."
Aiah laughed at that, the sound low and warm, and Mikha felt her chest tighten all over again. Damn those dimples.
"So," Aiah said after a moment, turning her gaze to Mikha. "Kamusta naman ang driving gig? Better than law?"
"By a mile," Mikha said with a grin. "Less stressful, less toxic. Though minsan, passengers can be... interesting."
"Interesting paano?" Aiah asked, tilting her head.
"Well," Mikha said, smirking. "May isang guy na kumain ng buong shawarma sa likod nang walang paalam. Tapos may isang lady na nagpapunta sa lima o anim na lugar kasi hindi niya alam kung saan siya kakain."
Aiah laughed, shaking her head. "Wow. Sounds fun."
"It has its moments," Mikha admitted. "Pero honestly, I don't mind it. Driving gives me time to think. And the music helps."
"Ah, yes. 'Yung 'impeccable playlist,'" Aiah teased, grinning.
"Hey, ikaw nagsabi niyan," Mikha said, laughing. "You're the one who approved."
"Approval pa rin," Aiah said with a shrug, her eyes twinkling.
They fell into a comfortable silence after that, the car weaving through BGC's quiet streets. Mikha took random turns, not caring where they were going, letting the drive stretch longer than it probably needed to.
"Okay ka lang?" Mikha asked softly, glancing at Aiah.
Aiah turned to her, her lips curving into a small smile. "Oo. Ngayon, okay na."
Mikha felt her chest tighten again, but this time, she didn't try to fight it. She just nodded, her lips curling into a faint smile as she focused back on the road. For the first time in a long time, the silence between her and someone else didn't feel heavy. It just... felt right.
/
The car rolled to a stop at a quiet intersection, the city lights flickering faintly through the windshield. Mikha hadn't said much since Aiah's last comment about feeling okay, her mind buzzing with the tension in the air between them. But it wasn't the uncomfortable kind of tension—it was the kind that made her pulse quicken and her hands grip the wheel just a little tighter.
As they waited for the light to turn green, Mikha glanced at Aiah, trying to gauge her mood. She was leaning back in her seat, her hair tumbling loosely over her shoulder, her face turned toward the window. The soft city glow lit up the side of her face, and Mikha's breath caught again.
Before she could stop herself, she blurted, "Kumain ka na ba?"
Aiah turned her head, blinking at her in surprise. "Huh?"
"I mean..." Mikha cleared her throat, feeling a little self-conscious now. "If you haven't eaten yet, we could grab something. Gabi na rin kasi."
As if on cue, Aiah's stomach grumbled loudly, cutting through the quiet hum of the car.
Mikha laughed, leaning back against her seat. "Okay, I think that's my answer."
Aiah groaned, covering her face with one hand. "Oh my God. That's embarrassing."
"Don't be. Everyone's gotta eat," Mikha said, grinning. "Sige, let's stop somewhere. I know a place, pero I hope you're not picky."
Aiah raised an eyebrow, the corner of her lips tugging into a faint smile. "Hindi naman. Lead the way."
Mikha smirked, her confidence creeping back in as she shifted the car into gear. "Good. Kasi kung ikaw yung tipo na ayaw sa mga hole-in-the-wall, mapapahiya ako."
They pulled up to the eatery a few minutes later. It was a tiny gotohan tucked into a quiet street, with plastic tables and chairs set up on the sidewalk under a flickering fluorescent light. A faint smell of garlic and ginger filled the air, mingling with the soft chatter of the few customers sitting outside.
Mikha parked the car and turned to Aiah, suddenly aware of how different this place must be from whatever restaurants she was used to frequenting. "Okay lang ba 'to? It's just lugaw, tokwa't baboy, that kind of stuff. Nothing fancy."
Aiah opened her door and stepped out, taking in the scene with a curious expression. "Looks fine to me," she said, her voice light.
As they approached the counter, Mikha couldn't help but glance at Aiah out of the corner of her eye. Her loose button-up, fitted jeans, and effortless elegance felt completely out of place against the backdrop of the no-frills eatery. But Aiah didn't seem to care.
Mikha ordered for both of them, a bowl of goto each with sides of tokwa't baboy and soft drinks in glass bottles. As they settled into one of the small plastic tables outside, Mikha slid Aiah's bowl toward her. "Okay, real talk," Mikha said, leaning her elbows on the table. "Kumakain ka ba ng ganito? Be honest."
Aiah raised an eyebrow, picking up her spoon. "Why? Wala bang mukhang kumakain ng gotohan?"
"Ewan ko. Hindi ka lang mukhang... usual crowd ng ganito," Mikha said, smirking.
Aiah let out a soft laugh, leaning back in her chair. "Fair enough. Pero bago mo i-assume na hindi ako kumakain ng ganito..." She set her spoon down and leaned slightly forward, her gaze steady on Mikha's. "Ikaw nga. Kumakain ka ba ng ganito dati? O ngayon lang?"
Mikha blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Uh, oo naman. Hindi naman ako masyadong maarte."
Aiah's lips curved into a teasing smile, and she tilted her head slightly. "Maybe. Pero alam mo, Mikha, I know a real Cartier watch when I see one."
Mikha froze, her mind blanking for a split second. "Wait, what?"
Aiah gestured subtly toward Mikha's wrist, where the faint tan line of a watch strap was still visible. "Cartier Santos, right? Classic design. Simple, elegant."
Mikha stared at her, completely thrown. "Paano mo alam 'yun?"
Aiah shrugged, picking up her spoon again. "I notice things."
Mikha tried to laugh it off, leaning back in her chair. "Okay, fine. Pero hindi ko na suot ngayon, ha. Kaya don't call me out."
Aiah smirked, taking her first bite of the goto. "Hindi naman ako nanghuhusga. I just think it's interesting. You're a Grab driver now, but there's still a part of you that's—how do I say this—old money."
Mikha's cheeks flushed. "Ang judgmental mo naman!"
"I'm not judging," Aiah said quickly, her tone softening. "Honestly, I get it. You're... complicated. And that's not a bad thing."
Mikha blinked, caught off guard again. "Complicated?"
Aiah nodded, stirring her goto absently. "Yeah. Like, you're clearly not what you were raised to be, but you're also not trying to pretend you're someone else. You're just... figuring it out."
Mikha didn't know how to respond to that. For a moment, she just stared at Aiah, her chest tightening at how easily she'd read her. It was unnerving, the way Aiah seemed to see through her so effortlessly, but it was also strangely comforting.
"Hindi ko alam kung compliment 'yun o insulto," Mikha said finally, her lips twitching into a small smile.
"Compliment," Aiah said, her gaze softening. "Definitely a compliment."
They fell into an easy silence after that, both focused on their food. Mikha was glad for the break, the chance to collect herself after Aiah's unexpected observations. She didn't know whether to feel flattered or exposed—or maybe both.
After a few minutes, Aiah spoke again, her tone lighter this time. "Okay, pero seryoso... Masarap pala 'to."
Mikha grinned, feeling a flicker of pride. "Told you. Lugaw is life."
Aiah laughed, shaking her head. "Lugaw is life, huh? Sige, noted."
They lingered at the gotohan longer than Mikha expected, the conversation flowing easily between them as they shared stories and jokes over their simple meal. Mikha couldn't help but feel that this—this quiet, unpretentious moment—was the kind of connection she hadn't realized she'd been missing.
/
Mikha leaned back in her chair, swirling the last bit of her soft drink in its glass bottle. The plastic table between them was now dotted with a few stray crumbs and the occasional soy sauce stain from the tokwa't baboy. The faint buzz of the fluorescent light overhead hummed in the quiet, punctuated by the occasional clatter of bowls and spoons from inside the eatery.
Aiah rested her chin on her hand, looking relaxed but alert, her eyes studying Mikha like she was trying to figure out a puzzle. Every now and then, Mikha caught her gaze flickering downward—maybe to her hands, maybe to her faintly scuffed sneakers. It was like Aiah was taking mental notes, but she never said what she was thinking, leaving Mikha slightly on edge.
"Kanina ka pa nakatingin," Mikha said, raising an eyebrow as she set her bottle down. "May dumi ba ako sa mukha or something?"
Aiah smiled, her dimples deepening in that way that made Mikha's heart stutter. "Wala naman. Nag-o-observe lang."
"Observe saan?" Mikha asked, smirking slightly. "Sige nga, ano na napansin mo?"
Aiah leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "Hmm. Well, napansin ko na medyo defensive ka," she said, her voice playful but pointed. "You make jokes when you feel uncomfortable. And... you're really bad at accepting compliments."
Mikha felt her cheeks heat up. "Excuse me," she said, crossing her arms. "Hindi ako defensive. Ikaw lang kasi parang detective kung makapagbasa ng tao."
Aiah chuckled softly. "Okay, fine. Hindi ka defensive. Pero aminado ka ba sa compliments part?"
Mikha huffed, picking up her bottle again to avoid answering. "Baka gusto mong mag-psychology degree, ha. Mukhang bagay sa'yo."
"Pwede," Aiah said with a grin, sitting back. "Pero seryoso, Mikha. You're not as mysterious as you think."
Mikha narrowed her eyes. "Feeling ko insulto 'yun."
"Compliment," Aiah corrected, her voice softening slightly. "You're... open in your own way. It's nice."
Mikha looked at her, feeling slightly disarmed. She wasn't sure how Aiah managed to do this—push past her usual walls and defenses without making it feel invasive. It wasn't something Mikha was used to, and it left her feeling a little exposed, a little raw.
"What about you?" Mikha asked, her tone lighter now. "Ako na naman 'yung in-analyze mo. Ikaw kaya?"
Aiah tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. "Ano namang gusto mong malaman?"
Mikha shrugged, leaning forward slightly. "Ikaw kasi parang ang composed mo palagi, eh. Pero kanina, you said you needed to get out. So, ano bang nangyari today?"
Aiah stilled slightly at the question, her eyes flickering downward before she met Mikha's gaze again. For a moment, Mikha thought she might dodge the question, but then Aiah exhaled softly, her shoulders dropping a fraction.
"Work," Aiah said simply, though her voice carried a weight that told Mikha there was more to it. "It's been... draining."
Mikha didn't press, but she gave Aiah a look that said go on.
Aiah hesitated, her fingers tracing the rim of her empty soft drink bottle. "There's just so much pressure all the time. I feel like no matter what I do, it's never enough. I'm always playing catch-up, trying to meet everyone's expectations. And today..." She trailed off, her voice faltering for the first time.
Mikha leaned forward slightly, resting her arms on the table. "What happened today?"
Aiah let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "Wala namang major. Just another meeting where I got torn apart for something that wasn't even my fault. Another day of smiling and nodding, pretending I'm fine while everyone around me seems so sure of what they're doing." She paused, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "I don't know. Minsan, parang nakakapagod na."
Mikha's chest tightened at the quiet vulnerability in Aiah's voice. She didn't say anything right away, afraid of saying the wrong thing and ruining the moment. Instead, she reached for the table napkin dispenser, pulled one out, and handed it to Aiah with a small smile.
"Here," Mikha said lightly. "Punas mo 'yung metaphorical stress mo."
Aiah looked at the napkin, then back at Mikha, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "Ikaw talaga," she said, shaking her head, but she took the napkin anyway, dabbing it against her temple as if to humor her.
"Better?" Mikha asked, her grin widening.
"Marginally," Aiah said, her smile returning, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.
They fell into a quieter rhythm after that, neither of them rushing to fill the silence. Mikha wanted to say something comforting, something that would ease the weight she could see Aiah carrying, but she wasn't sure where to start.
Finally, she said, "You know, you don't have to figure it all out in one day."
Aiah looked at her, her expression softening. "That's easier said than done."
"Yeah, I know," Mikha said, her voice quieter now. "Pero minsan, it helps to take a step back. Even just for a night."
Aiah studied her for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I think that's why I texted you," she admitted. "I didn't know who else to call."
Mikha's heart skipped at the confession, but she forced herself to play it cool. "Well, you picked the right person," she said, flashing a small smile. "Certified escape driver, at your service."
Aiah laughed, the sound lighter this time, and Mikha felt a flicker of pride at the way her dimples appeared again. "Thanks, Mikha," Aiah said softly. "For tonight."
"Anytime," Mikha replied, her chest tightening again, though this time it wasn't entirely unpleasant.
They lingered a little longer, finishing their meal and slipping into easier, lighter conversation, but Mikha couldn't help but feel that something between them had shifted. The vulnerability in Aiah's voice, the way she'd let her guard down, had stirred something in Mikha she couldn't quite name.
And as they packed up and headed back to the car, Mikha realized she didn't really care where the night took them next. For now, it was enough that they were here, together, figuring it out one moment at a time.
/
The days that followed their night at the gotohan felt like a blur to Mikha, but in the best way possible. Aiah had texted her the next morning, a simple "Thanks again for last night. Goto really is life." That message alone had set the tone for the next few days—a steady exchange of texts that started light and playful but gradually grew into something more personal.
Their conversations never felt forced, and Mikha found herself looking forward to every notification from Aiah. It wasn't just the banter, though there was plenty of that. It was the way Aiah managed to slip in little observations about Mikha that made her feel seen in a way she hadn't expected.
Mikha: "Hope you survived another day of meetings."
Aiah: "Barely. But don't worry, I didn't cry in the bathroom this time. Improvement, right?"
Mikha: "Progress is progress. Lugaw therapy again soon?"
Aiah: "Only if you promise not to judge my ordering technique next time."
Mikha: "Promise. But only if you stop calling me out for wearing a Cartier watch. Unfair advantage."
It was easy. Effortless, even. And yet, Mikha found herself smiling at her phone more often than she wanted to admit.
By the third or fourth day, her friends started noticing.
It was late afternoon, and Mikha was sprawled on the couch in their shared apartment, her phone resting on her chest. She'd just gotten off another shift, and though she'd told herself she'd nap, her plans had quickly been derailed by a message from Aiah.
"May na-text na naman," Colet teased, plopping onto the couch beside her. She peered over Mikha's shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of her screen. "Sino 'yan?"
Mikha immediately flipped her phone over, clutching it protectively to her chest. "Wala. Work stuff."
"'Work stuff,' my ass," Colet said, smirking. "Ngayon lang kita nakitang ganito. Smile ka nang smile. Ano, may bago ka bang nililigawan?"
"Bakit naman agad 'nililigawan'?" Mikha shot back, though her cheeks flushed.
"Eh obvious kaya!" Gwen chimed in from the kitchen, where she was pouring herself a glass of water. She leaned against the counter, raising an eyebrow at Mikha. "You've been glued to your phone for days. And you're smiling like a tanga. Spill. Sino 'yan?"
"Wala nga," Mikha muttered, standing up and grabbing her empty coffee mug from the table. "Nagpapaka-assume kayo masyado."
"Sure, sure," Colet said, not buying it for a second. "Hindi ka na nga nagre-reklamo about Grab passengers lately. Something is up. Or rather, someone."
"Mikha, ikaw ba 'to?" Gwen added dramatically, clutching her chest. "Ikaw, na cold and calculating dati, ngayon smiling and texting? Ano'ng nangyayari?"
Mikha rolled her eyes, trying to ignore them as she rinsed her mug at the sink. "You're both imagining things."
"Oh, we are?" Colet said, standing up and trailing after her. "Kahit kagabi, nakita kita nakangiti habang nagta-type? Tapos tumawa ka mag-isa? Ano 'yun, work email?"
"Okay, tama na!" Mikha said, laughing despite herself. "Hindi nga kayo magbabago. Wala akong pinaplano or whatever. Can't a girl just text in peace?"
"Not when you're that obvious," Gwen said, grinning. "So, sino siya?"
Mikha hesitated, gripping the edge of the sink. For a moment, she debated whether to tell them. She knew they'd blow it out of proportion, and the last thing she wanted was for her friends to meddle and scare Aiah off. But still, keeping it bottled up felt weird, especially when she knew they wouldn't drop it anytime soon.
"It's just..." Mikha sighed, drying her hands on a towel. "It's that girl. Aiah— remember Jho’s family friend."
There was a beat of silence before both Colet and Gwen erupted into delighted laughter.
"HA! I KNEW IT!" Colet yelled, practically jumping in place.
"I'm sorry, I just need to bask in this moment," Gwen said, leaning on the counter. "Mikha has a crush! This is groundbreaking."
"Hindi crush," Mikha said quickly, though her cheeks were burning. "Nagte-text lang kami. That's it."
"Oh, nagte-text lang," Colet said, smirking. "Tapos biglang glowing ka? Oo na, Mikha, convince yourself pa."
"Baka nga wala lang 'to," Mikha muttered, frowning slightly. "Maybe she's just being nice. Ayoko namang mag-assume."
"Mag-assume ka na," Gwen said, rolling her eyes. "If she's texting you this much, she's obviously interested. Hindi naman siya obligadong kausapin ka, di ba?"
"Exactly," Colet added. "Trust me, Mikha. Girls like her don't waste time on random people unless they want to."
Mikha hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. It was true that Aiah had been the one to reach out first, but still, a small part of her couldn't help but wonder if she was reading too much into it.
"Eh, ano ba sinasabi niya sa texts?" Gwen asked, grinning.
"Wala," Mikha said quickly, looking away.
"'Wala,' my ass," Colet said, crossing her arms. "Let me guess—lugaw jokes and deep convos?"
Mikha blinked, startled. "How did you—"
"Oh my God, I'm right?" Colet burst out laughing. "Mikha, ikaw na nga talaga."
Mikha groaned, grabbing her phone and escaping to her room before they could interrogate her any further.
Later that night, Mikha lay in bed, staring at her phone. Aiah had texted her again, this time about a ridiculous email she'd received at work.
Aiah: "They're asking for revisions on revisions I submitted three weeks ago. I swear, this job is slowly killing me."
Mikha: "Sounds like corporate life to me. Kaya nga umalis ako diyan, eh."
Aiah: "Must be nice to just... walk away. Hindi ko alam if I could ever do that."
Mikha: "You'd be surprised. Sometimes it's not as hard as it seems. Minsan mahirap lang simulan."
Aiah: "Maybe. You'll have to teach me how one day."
Mikha stared at that last message, her heart skipping a beat. She thought about how easily Aiah had slipped into her life over the past few days, how she'd gone from a random passenger to someone who now occupied so much of her thoughts.
She typed out a reply: "Deal. But you'll owe me another lugaw date after."
She hesitated for a moment, then hit send, her chest tightening.
Aiah's reply came almost immediately: "Lugaw is life, di ba? Consider it a deal."
Mikha set her phone down, a small smile tugging at her lips. Maybe Gwen and Colet were right. Maybe there was something here, something worth exploring.
And for the first time in a long time, Mikha felt like she wasn't afraid to see where it might lead.
— PART 3/6 —