Miggy's POV
Meynard picked me up right as the screening began. I could tell right away—some of them weren't comfortable in front of the camera. You could see it in their eyes; in the way they moved. A few were trying too hard, and it showed. Their acting came off forced, unnatural.
It was a simple scene—just washing your face. That's it. But somehow, they overdid it. Their expressions were stiff, exaggerated, and instead of looking convincing, it looked awkward on camera.
What it needed was balance. Even if you're nervous, you should still keep your expressions natural. Just the right amount of confidence and subtlety. The audience has to believe you—even if all you're doing is picking up a tube of facial wash, squeezing some onto your hand, and gently applying it to your face.
But some of them couldn't even do that without their hands visibly shaking. Worse, a few forgot their lines completely from sheer nervousness.
The screening took longer than expected. Too many were freezing up or fumbling through it. I told the panel we should at least give them three takes each—if they still couldn't get it right, we had to move on. We didn't have the luxury of wasting time when there were others waiting for their turn.
Gabie's POV
"Besh, I'm so nervous. What if I end up like them and forget my lines?" I whispered to Jhay, who was sitting beside me at the back.
"Oh no! Just trust yourself," he whispered back. "Calm down. Imagine you're at home, just washing your face in front of the mirror. When you say your lines, pretend you're talking to yourself."
"But how? How do I even calm down?"
"Hay, you're so crazy! If you don't stop overthinking, I'll pinch you where it hurts!" he said, half-joking, half-serious. "And think about this—if you mess this up, you won't be able to get the endorsement for your thesis. Then you won't graduate. All because you let your nerves win."
"Wait, are you serious? Don't say that! I will finish my thesis and graduate!" I shot back, wide-eyed.
"Then prove it!" he said with a glare. "Pull yourself together. Do it right, and I'll take it back. Deal?" I nodded, though I still wasn't sure I'd be able to perform well.
"You need to give the panel your best shot. Don't forget—someone in there already knows who you are. You have brand posters with your face on them. If you mess this up, it'll be embarrassing. And don't forget, this is all for your thesis, beshie!" he hissed at me with a stern look. I could tell he was frustrated—I'd been saying "I can't do it" on repeat since this morning. I didn't blame him for being annoyed.
"Next! Number fifteen!" the staff called out. I stood up quickly and showed my number. They guided me to a small table with a basin of clean water, a facial wash tube, and a towel.
"Did you memorize your lines?" the staff member asked.
"Yes," I replied, trying hard to keep my voice steady.
"Alright, ready for take? Just relax. Don't waste this chance," he said kindly—the same reminder he gave everyone else.
"Okay. Thank you," I nodded.
"Okay! Prepare for take. In three, two, one—action!"
"For the thesis. For the thesis. For the thesis. For the thesis".
I kept chanting it in my head like a prayer. "You can do this, Gabie. For the thesis."
Before I knew it, I was done. I had already finished the scene. My eyes widened when I heard the staff shout, "Good take!"
"You did great! Congratulations," he smiled. "I think you're the only one who nailed it in one take."
"Thank you," I said, my smile tight. My hands were still trembling, cold with sweat, but I kept it hidden.
"Alright, please wait in the standby area. Don't go home yet—we might need to call you again."
I nodded and quickly returned to my seat beside Jhay.
"Besh!" he hissed excitedly. "You nailed it! You looked so natural on the monitor. You kept saying you couldn't, but you did!"
I laughed, shaking my head. "Shut up! I just followed what you told me. I repeated a mantra in my head to keep calm. It actually helped."
"Wow, it worked! I'm so proud of you!" he beamed.
"Shh! Let's not be noisy—they might scold us," I whispered. We were the only ones talking inside the hall.
Even though my part was done, I couldn't relax. Something still lingered—the weight of the staff's eyes on me before and after the take. This was all new to me. If it weren't for how badly I needed this, I never would've put myself through it.
"Besh... do you think there'll be another screening after this?" I asked quietly, seeing Jhay still focused on the monitor.
"I don't know. I didn't get to ask earlier—I had to go with you to the restroom, remember?" he said without looking at me.
"I'm just scared. What if I still don't get picked?"
"Stop thinking like that. Trust yourself, okay? This is for your thesis."
"I know but—"
"No buts," he cut in. "If you keep talking like that, I'm going to slap you with my big hand."
"Crazy!" I giggled. "Don't stress me out!"
"I'm serious! You've got this. I believe in you. Can you believe in yourself too?" he said, more softly this time.
"Okay. I'm sorry... I just can't stop feeling nervous," I admitted.
He rolled his eyes but gave me a reassuring smile. I smiled back, still scared, but a little more at peace.
Miggy's POV
"She's beautiful. That's how women should be," I murmured to myself, watching her on the monitor. "No heavy makeup, no clown-like lipstick—just natural. Her smile's cute, and there's a spark in her eyes like she's genuinely enjoying herself. There's something light about her aura… and it's making me nervous. She's the only one who stands out from all the other auditionees."
I kept staring. "Her face doesn't bore me at all. I could look at her all day and never get tired. In fact, I'd probably want more."
"I really like this woman," I heard the client representative beside me say.
"She's the only one who delivered the lines properly," added the guy on her right. "Confident, natural. The others made too many mistakes."
"Isn't that right, sir?" the woman suddenly turned to me. "Do you agree?"
"Huh? Oh, sorry, I wasn't listening," I lied, startled she brought me into the conversation.
"I said she's the only one who acted naturally and delivered the lines well," she repeated.
"Yeah. I agree," I answered quickly, eager to end the interaction.
"If it were up to me, I'd choose her already. But to be fair to the others, we'll continue the screening. Still, I already have a favorite. Don't you?"
"I'd also go for number fifteen," I wanted to say—but stopped myself. I didn't want to be misread.
"So, this might be the final round?" the man on her right asked.
"It depends. If no one else delivers like she did, then yes, this might be it. But of course, we'll still go through the proper deliberation. Right, sir?" She turned to me again.
"Why does she keep dragging me into these conversations? I don't even want to be here," I muttered silently.
"Yes. It still needs to go through deliberation—that's the standard procedure," I said flatly.
"I thought you weren't listening," she teased.
"What now? You even have the nerve to joke with me? We're not close", I thought bitterly, but I didn't respond. I just shook my head, trying not to let my irritation show.
I was relieved when the auditions finally ended. I stood up immediately, not wanting to linger any longer. I still had pending documents to work on—the only reason I'd been forced to sit through the audition in the first place.
The team told the girls that the results would be released within the week after we reviewed everything in tomorrow's meeting. We needed to watch the recordings again and get everyone's input before deciding.
I invited Meynard to join me for dinner at the restaurant inside the hotel once he was done. While waiting, I headed there first to get started on my paperwork.
"I forgot to check the name of number fifteen. Great. I'll find out tomorrow." I sighed as I opened my folder. "But why is she still on my mind? Seriously, what is wrong with me? She's stunning—even without makeup. That's what I like. No fakeness. Just pure, natural beauty".
"Ugh, stop it, Miggy. You're supposed to be working, not daydreaming. I don't even understand what I'm reading anymore." I rubbed my temples, annoyed with myself. "Why didn't I bother to look at her file? Stupid!"
Incoming call: Mommy
"Hello, little one!" Mom's cheerful voice made me smile.
"Hi, Mom! How are you?"
"I'm good, son. Aunt Beth and I went out with Carla earlier."
My heart lifted. "That's nice to hear. I'm glad you're spending time with them."
"Of course! It's been forever since I last went to the salon. I don't even remember when the last time was."
"I'm really happy for you, Mom."
"Oh, sorry, we're about to eat now. Take care, okay? You and Meynard. I'll see you both later. Bye!"
She hung up before I could even say goodbye.
Still, I smiled. "That's okay. The important thing is… she's getting better. No more crying. No more drinking. Thank you, God. I thought I was going to lose her too after Dad. I'm not sure I could've handled that."
Then a thought hit me. "But what happens if she finds out about Dad's secret? About the other woman… and Gabriella Therese? She's still healing. She's not ready."
"Hey, bro. You're spacing out again," Meynard said, patting my shoulder.
"Ah, just remembered something. Are you done?"
"Yeah. It's impressive how you hide your anxiety."
"Shut up. You're always targeting me."
"Because I know you, bro. That wasn't just a memory, was it?"
I took a deep breath. "It was about Mom. I was just… thinking."
"What about Ma'am Barbs?"
"She's fine. She and Aunt Beth were with Carla. They had a good day, I think. She hung up quickly because they were about to eat."
"So… what's the problem then?"
"I just can't stop thinking—how will she react when she finds out I'm looking for the woman Dad had an affair with? I'm scared, bro. She's only pretending to be okay."
"That's rough." Meynard nodded thoughtfully. "Have you thought about telling Sir Manuel? I mean, it's his niece, right? He deserves to know."
"I don't know. Everything's a mess. Right now, all I can do is wait."
"You'll get through this, bro. You always do."
I sighed, lifting the folders in front of me. "Anyway, let's eat. I'm starving. It's a hassle to go back to the condo and cook, especially with these documents still unfinished."
I motioned to the waiter nearby. He approached, took our order, and a few minutes later, our food was served.
Gabie's POV
"Oh my gosh! If you had seen her earlier, you'd think she already had a commercial! She acted in front of the camera like she's been doing it for years!" Jhay gushed to Mama, animated as ever. That's my best friend—if talking were currency, he'd be filthy rich. Just kidding. I love him, noise and all.
"That's great to hear! I'm sure the agency will pick her for the commercial," Mama said warmly.
"Oh, please," I cut in, waving them off. "Don't believe everything he says. There were others who did well too."
"My beautiful aunt," Jhay insisted dramatically, "you have to trust me on this. I was right there watching the monitor, and the staff had nothing but praise for her!"
"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow, curiosity getting the better of me. "What exactly did they say?"
"Secretttttttttttttttttttttt!" he teased, sticking his tongue out at me like a kid.
"You're just making that up to cheer me up," I muttered.
"Excuse me? Why would I make up a story? Does that earn me money?" he said with exaggerated sarcasm.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," I said more seriously. "I don't want to hope too much and end up disappointed. That kind of thing hurts, you know?"
"That's your problem—you don't believe in yourself," Jhay said, shaking his head. "But I'm telling you, you totally charmed them!"
"Hey, enough already, you two!" Mama scolded. "You're always bickering when there's food in front of you. Can we eat in peace?"
"But Auntie, you believe me, don't you?" Jhay turned to her with pleading eyes.
Mama smiled but stayed grounded. "I know she's talented, but we'll never know for sure until the results come out. It's better to manage expectations, so it won't hurt as much if someone else gets picked."
The playful mood returned as we continued eating. Mama has always been our referee. Jhay and I may fight like siblings, but we love each other deeply. With him, it feels like I have both a sister and a brother rolled into one. I can't go a day without talking to him. If school keeps me too busy and we don't see each other, I end up calling him the moment I get home.
Later that evening, after we finished cleaning up and Jhay had left because his mom called, I found Mama outside the house, staring into space.
"Mom?" I called gently.
"Huh?" she blinked.
"Is something wrong?"
"N-No, why?" she asked quickly.
"You just looked… lost in thought."
"I'm just tired."
"Oh my gosh, didn't I tell you not to overwork yourself?" I said, walking over. "You know you don't have to push so hard with the online selling. I can help out more with our expenses. My scholarship covers a lot already—tuition, allowance, some school supplies. Plus, I earn a little from gigs. Let me handle the bills and groceries."
"I'm okay," she insisted. "Just need a good night's sleep. I'll be fine tomorrow."
I sighed, half-joking. "It's really hard raising a parent, you know?"
She burst out laughing. "You're full of sass, you know that?"
We laughed together, and for a moment, everything felt light again.