Queen of the Universe, page 7
“Pero the gift must come from the heart.”
Owen turns around and faces Jenny. She looks tired but also happy in her blue maid uniform. The wrinkles under her eyes turn up as she smiles. She’s a fifty-something woman who’s been part of the household for over ten years, and he thinks of her as family. He listens to her because she treats him like he’s her son. Her motherly ways have helped him a lot during times when he didn’t know what to make of his relationship with Cleo.
“You’re right. Thank you.” Owen sighs. “And don’t call me ‘sir’. Just call me by my name.”
Jenny does call Owen by his name, when his family and friends are not around. Once in a while, she forgets.
“Okay, Owen.” Jenny smiles at him before leaving the room.
With Jenny’s words in Owen’s mind, he stands up, stretches his arms, and checks his watch. It’s only 5 p.m. The night is still ahead, and the possibilities are endless. Determined to lighten the stress on Cleo as much as he can, he goes down to their garage and hops on his motorcycle. He puts on his helmet and is about to speed away when his brother suddenly stops him.
Mark stands in front of Owen in his full black suit. He’s looking at him in all seriousness. He’s just like their father—stone cold. “You’re not joining us for dinner?”
“No. I have somewhere to be.”
“Is it a meeting? A trip to the office? A consultation with your professor?” Mark hurls one question after another. He interrogates Owen like he’s caught him red-handed at something.
Owen shrugs, refusing to answer. Instead, he revs his engine and drives away, out of his sight and into the open space. He drives faster, slipping through the rush hour traffic jams. Jeepney and bus drivers honk at him as he glides in between them. He comes to a complete halt at a red light. Glancing to the side, he sees another man on a motorcycle. The man grins at him, his crooked teeth decaying.
The traffic light turns yellow. And then green. Owen smiles as he drives in a rush, and when he gets to his destination, he grins.
Cleo hears the sound of his motorcycle and runs out. “Babe!” she cries as she bolts down to the gate. It squeals on its rusty hinges as she throws it open and practically jumps into Owen’s arms. “You’re all sweaty. What happened to you?”
“I wanted to see you.” Owen smiles at her. As always, she looks naturally beautiful, even in her white shirt and shorts. The long locks of her hair are tied in braids, her lips pursed as if she’s telling him a secret that only she and the universe know. Her beauty never fails to astound him. She’s ethereally angelic, but her aura defies what she looks like—an enchanter, a siren, and an apple from the forbidden tree.
“I’m sorry—” Cleo begins fumbling over the words.
Owen kisses Cleo’s cheek. “Hey, it’s okay.”
“Thank you! I feel so much better now that you’re here! I’ve been reading the script for hours, and it’s just frustrating me, you know?” Cleo grumbles, leaning into Owen. “I’m all over the internet, and they’re waiting for me to fail.”
Owen doesn’t know about that. He’s barely on social media. He’s only there for Cleo, where he gets tagged in memes and romantic posts. He ignores them because he doesn’t see the point in commenting when he can say what he thinks of it directly to her.
Owen pulls a folder out of his bag and smiles at her. “How about we read lines?”
Surprised, Cleo takes the folder from Owen and finds the printed script inside.
“It’s a date. You and me, on the rooftop, reading lines. How does that sound to you?” Owen asks.
And in a flash, all the strain goes out of Cleo’s face. They don’t waste a minute. They lounge on the rooftop, facing each other as they read the lines. As she listens to him read, he sees a smile play upon her lips every now and then. They don’t have time for cuddling tonight, but that’s fine. Owen goes off graciously, as always.
Next day, Cleo’s even busier. Owen knows she’s under a lot of pressure. Phoning her won’t cheer her up. He’s lucky if he gets five minutes of her time. He sends her food, and she says thank you, and the conversation ends there. The shoot hasn’t started yet, but it feels like he’s already headed for the sideline. He keeps his patience. He knows she needs this after her series of disappointments. He knows what disappointment feels like.
That Sunday evening, Owen and Cleo are on the rooftop, rereading lines. This is the only time he can have her to himself. He’s willing to take any time she has available. If that means reading lines, then he’s happy to do that all night long, if she wants.
“Okay, you should try acting a bit cocky,” Cleo comments after Owen has finished reading. “The character is a cocky man, and Jake is a—”
“Jake is your leading man?” Owen interrupts Cleo, curious. He doesn’t know much about the guy, but he knows Jake is a big name.
“Yeah. I told you about Jake before. Remember him?”
“Your childhood friend,” Owen mutters, flipping through the pages of the script and reading a lot of I love you’s and kissing scenes. He’s been so busy trying to read lines with her it has only just hit him that she’s about to get all sweet with her childhood friend.
“Yeah. He thought of me for the role, too. This was his idea,” Cleo adds, staring at Owen. “You’re fine with it, right? This won’t be the first time I’ll be having an on-screen partner.”
True, it isn’t, but this is the first time Cleo gets to be with someone she knows. Owen simply smiles at her. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re the best boyfriend ever!” Cleo squeals, putting her arms around Owen. “After the shoot, I promise you, we’re free to go to Hong Kong!”
Owen can’t wait for the shoot to be over with already.
Chapter 7
The Fortune of Luck and Hard Work
It’s the first day of Cleo’s shoot on the set, and she’s still inside the tent, eating her sunny-side-up breakfast. She had a van service with the production team to get to their location at Bonifacio Global City, a commercial center filled with glitzy shopping areas. It’s where all the rich people live and work. It’s basically Manila’s Silver City.
Cleo looks at herself in the mirror. She’s dolled up like Selene—killer red lipstick and scanty sheer dress with a sultry expression on her face. She tries out a smile, but it appears too forced. She frowns and then smiles again. And again. Until she perfects it enough to fool anyone who sees her. Actors are magicians; nobody knows what’s really inside the hat but them. They can pull a rabbit out of the hat and call it a dove, and everyone will see a dove.
Cleo needs to pull herself out of the hat and identify herself as Selene. Not that Selene is a dove or a rabbit—she’s more of a snake.
Selene is a beautiful snake that sheds skin for her career.
“I’m not a snake,” Cleo says to herself, not wanting to imagine her tongue hissing like a snake’s. That’ll be too cryptic and weird. “I’m a Leo. I’m a Lion.”
“And they’re gonna hear you roar? Are you a fan of Katy Perry?” Kristel, the production assistant, chimes in. She’s got a lapel in her right hand and the script on the other. She puts the script on the table and takes the brush, combing Cleo’s hair to untangle the slight mess.
Cleo smiles wryly. “Just thinking out loud.”
“Do you need anything else? Water?” Kristel asks, checking her phone for text messages.
“Water’s good. Thanks.”
Kristel nods and turns away. The back of her gray t-shirt reads Production Assistant, but sometimes she seems like a director herself. She’s tiny but also loud. Cleo’s guess is it’s one of the requirements for being a PA.
“Oh, and Jake’s outside looking for you.” Kristel glances meaningfully at Cleo. She doesn’t need to tell Cleo to go outside. The tone of her voice is enough to make Cleo leave her vanity table and look for Jake.
The searing heat of the sun greets Cleo’s skin, it’s only 8:00 a.m., and the sun’s all high and mighty. But what she sees in front of her soothes her, lightens her anxiety. It’s a mural of pastel pink, purple, and blue doors, the doors of imagination. Life in this city may be extravagant, but what brings it to life is the mural art painting in surprising places.
“Have you ever gone mural hunting here?”
Cleo doesn’t need to turn toward the voice to know it for Jake’s. “I haven’t had the time, but looking at it now, I think I’d like to give it a try.”
“Perfect.”
Cleo turns to look at Jake and finds him staring at the mural in front of them. He’s in a casual black t-shirt and dark gray sweatpants as if he just came from a run and casually dropped by the set for the shoot. Now she envies him for wearing something so comfortable.
“Why me?” Cleo asks as the wind blows her hair.
Jake shrugs, fixing the gel on his hair. “You’re Direk Everett’s daughter, aren’t you? You’re publicity.”
“You mean I’m publicity more than I’m a performer?”
“Selene got into an accident. If another random actress fills in, it’ll fail because—”
“Because everyone has love teams already, except for me,” Cleo concludes for Jake. “And because of my last name.”
“But you’re here, right? It doesn’t matter. You get to be in a lead role.” Jake winks at Cleo.
If Cleo were Selene, she’d have the guts to produce an award-winning dramatic slap scene with Jake right now, but she reminds herself she’s not Selene. What he’s saying about her is also true, so she smiles at him instead. If she can get a peso every time somebody says she’s famous because of her last name, she’d be rich enough by now to change her last name.
“Oh, I am,” Cleo says daringly. “I’m your leading lady. While Selene’s gone, you’re stuck with me, and I’m gonna give you hell for it.”
“What a hell-raiser! We’ll see about that, Walter.” Jake smirks, leaving Cleo alone as he goes back to the production crew.
Cleo storms back inside her tent and again looks at herself in the mirror. She pulls out her phone and stalks Selene’s social media accounts. She checks Selene’s photos, trying to imitate how she smiles, frowns, laughs, and flirts. Selene is pretty much the definition of a lead role, so Cleo spends a few minutes watching her scenes from teleseryes. Just as she’s playing with the expressions on her face, Kristel comes back again.
“We’re rolling in five minutes,” Kristel tells Cleo. “Are you good?”
Cleo makes a determined face in the mirror, replying to Kristel’s reflection with “Better.”
“Okay, Cleo. This is a daring role, a scandalous one. This is the place where you, as Nina, find out about your boyfriend and best friend’s secret relationship. You saw them together here on the weekend, when your boyfriend told you we was sick. Got it?” Direk Gary stares at Cleo, who’s nodding like a good girl.
“Got it,” Cleo responds.
“Jake, well, you know what to do,” Direk Gary says as a matter of fact. “Okay, on your places.”
Everyone rushes to their places, including Cleo and Jake. While the director goes back to the tent complex, the assistant director double-checks everything on the set. The gaffer checks the placement and condition of the overhead equipment and lighting.
“QUIET ON THE SET!” the assistant director bellows. “Rolling in five, four, three, two . . .
ACTION!”
PROD. The Boyfriend Switch
ROLL 3. SCENE 18. TAKE 1.
DIRECTOR: Gary Hillaro
Nina pushes her sunglasses up onto her head and goes from one store to another. Life had suddenly gotten better when she got on the reality TV show. The expensive clothes she couldn’t buy before are just a peso to her now. What’s even better is that she and her best friend, Lara, get to enjoy all kinds of perks. They’ve been best friends for as long as she can remember, so nothing on God’s green earth can come between them, not even this competition, not even when she’s finding herself kind of into Lara’s boyfriend, Martin.
As if on cue, Nina gets a text from Martin. He wants to meet up with her to talk about “their feelings,” but she disregards it.
She puts her phone back in her bag and rolls her eyes. She’ll always be chicks before dicks. There are a lot of Martins in the world, but only one Lara. And she and Lara are, like, all for one and one for all. It’s a pact they made way back when they were kids.
Nina’s almost tempted to reply, though. She likes Martin, but if it weren’t for the boyfriend switch reality TV show, they wouldn’t like each other. They’ve just been put together in circumstances that can make people’s feel sort of jumpy, and she’s not a believer in a love produced on the screen.
“Miss?” the cashier calls for Nina’s attention.
Nina hands her credit card to the cashier and smiles at her. “Sorry.”
Speaking of boyfriend switch, Nina wonders how her boyfriend, Ryan, is doing. He barely has time for her now, so Martin has been taking up more space in her head. It’s crazy, and she’s guilty of thinking about another guy instead of her boyfriend. Oh, the goddess of love must be so stressed right now for only giving her one heart that can dream of two guys.
“Thanks!” Nina says cheerily, leaving the store and strolling around the streets of BGC. The hot sun is making her throat all achy, so she ends up in Heartstrings, brewers of the best coffee in the world.
Inside the cafe, Nina inhales the smell of fresh coffee. It hits her nose like a breath of fresh air, a taste of what it feels like to be alive in a sometimes-monotonous world. A good day gets even better when she sees Lara sitting comfortably on one of the couches, a sweet smile on her face. Excited, she’s about to call out to her when a man—no, not just a man, but her boyfriend, Ryan, sits down by Lara.
“What the hell?” Nina murmurs to herself, observing the two from a safe distance. She quickly slips on her sunglasses and watches them.
Yes, Nina’s boyfriend and Lara are indeed holding hands. Nina clenches her fists and grits her teeth. So, after all this time, they’re going behind her back? Okay, she and Martin like each other, but they didn’t go as far as this.
Nina strides over to Ryan and Lara’s table, her heart lurching forward and full of fury. She crosses her arms and looks at them, dropping her shopping bags on the floor.
“Hello, love,” Nina greets Ryan sarcastically.
Ryan and Lara both look guilty. Ryan stands up, trying to pacify Nina, but Nina’s hand greets his face.
“AND CUT!”
Direk Gary comes out of the tent system and claps his hands. “Well done! Let’s do another take and then keep on rolling, yes?”
Cleo breathes out a sigh of relief before smiling to herself. She looks at the crew and then at Jake, who is giving her a nod of approval. This once-in-a-lifetime may have been meant as a joke on her, on the part of Jake or whoever, but this joke can’t be joked with. She can’t help but laugh.
“Baliw ka na ba?” Kristel comes up behind Cleo, looking warily at her as if she’s really gone loca.
Cleo shakes her head and returns to her original post, ready for the next take. If these people think they can play her around, then they’ve got it all wrong. She’s played the game too many times to lose this time around.
“Your phone, Cleo,” Kristel reprimands Cleo. “We can hear it loud and clear in your tent.”
“Oh, wait. Let me turn it off.” Cleo goes back to her tent and finds Owen calling her. She rejects his call and starts to type that she’s busy and will call back soon, but when she hears Direk Gary’s ready signal, she turns off her phone without finishing the text. Back in position, she stands ready for the next take.
“Rolling in five, four, three, two . . . ACTION!”
And so, for the next three days of taping, Cleo spends her entire time preparing for the upcoming scenes. She can flaunt herself out there and be Selene for now while she works on her own image. Accepting this role has been the best decision she’s ever made. Owen’s being an extra boyfriend too. He’s been sending snacks and waits for her to finish the shoot, even if it lasts until 4 a.m.
“So.” Owen scratches the back of his head when they reach the gates of Cleo’s house. It’s almost five in the morning, and they’ve both gotten barely any sleep.
Cleo kisses his cheeks, grateful for his efforts. “Thank you, babe. You’re amazing. The shoot’s amazing. Everything is amazing, and I’m so tired.”
Cleo doesn’t feel tired on the set, but on the way home she feels her energy draining. Thankfully Owen’s there for her every step of the way. He makes sure she has everything she needs before she sleeps and after she wakes up in the morning. She doesn’t know what she’d do without her boyfriend.
Owen gives her a little smile, his eyes locked onto hers. “Dinner tomorrow?”
Cleo can barely keep track of her schedule, but they haven’t been anywhere for almost a week now. “Sure. I think call time is at ten in the morning, and we’d have an early pack up. The scenes tomorrow are—I think—easy for someone like me.”
“Someone like you?” Owen raises an eyebrow at her, doubtful. “You take everything as a challenge, babe. Nothing is ever too easy for you. I love you.”
Cleo yawns and grins at him. “I love you too.”
Owen hardly slept a wink. The dark circles under his eyes tell him it’s not a great idea to run this morning, but he still changes his clothes, plugs his air pods in his ears, and goes for a run outside. He runs like his life depends on it, and somehow, he believes it does. So, he runs to compete against his racing thoughts.
