by Tara Frejas
“And how long is a while, exactly?”
He knelt on the bed and crawled up to her. “I didn’t know I had to pass an entrance interview.”
“Is that a joke?”
“It is if you laugh.”
A soft smile spread across her face, and her shoulders shook gently with quiet laughter. “You’re cute. Now hurry up and kiss me.”
Pio was only too glad to oblige, and soon it seemed they were trying to one-up each other with the kissing and touching and fondling. Whoever makes the most and loudest noises loses should be the rule, he thought. He was winning, of course, what with Audrey’s delicious moans filling the room.
But just when he thought he had the upper hand in this battle, she turned the tables on him. “Too slow, babe,” she breathed, pushing him off of her and onto his back and mounting him instead.
Holy. Shit.
It was his turn to make noises when Audrey laid her hands on him. For a fleeting second, Pio recalled the Audrey he met on set in Baguio City, the one who knew exactly what she wanted and did everything she could so she could get it. And in the most efficient way possible too.
That was the Audrey who straddled him now, who wore a look of mischief on her face as she freed them both of their last pieces of clothing. She cut to the chase, did away with the ceremony. He was ready anyway. They both were. Gazes locked, Pio watched her rip the condom packet with her teeth, slide the rubber over his erection, and guide him, all of him, inside her.
“Fuck,” he growled, the feel of her clenching around him enough to knock the air out of his lungs. Unruly black locks obscured her face as she placed her delicate hands on his chest for leverage, but he got a glimpse of her slightly parted mouth and knew he wasn’t going to last very long. And maybe that was okay, because Audrey seemed to be chasing something. Or at least that was how it felt, what with the fevered, urgent way she rolled her hips against his.
Fire crept over Pio’s skin as he kept up with her pace. He made sure to worship every heavenly inch of her he could with his hands, his mouth. When he reached between her legs to help her seize whatever it was she was in delirious pursuit of, Audrey threw her head back and moaned her approval.
She got there first, the go-getter that she was, but he wasn’t far behind. Audrey collapsed against his chest and sighed his name—his name, thank god, and not someone else’s—into his ear. Closing his eyes as he came down from a high he had not felt in so long, Pio smiled, placed a hand over the back of her head and kissed her hair.
What a day.
“I have a question,” Pio began, when he was finally able to catch his breath. His hands were on the small of her back now, one holding her steady, the other lazily drawing circles on her skin.
Audrey lifted her head to meet his gaze.
“Do you have an Uber waiting for you outside?”
The lazy look on her face turned into a smirk, and her response was a hard smack, square on his chest. He groaned. They laughed.
It was the only other sound Pio liked more than the salacious noises they just made.
TWELVE
“S o...how long is a while?”
Pio paused mid-chew and threw her a look. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
Audrey stifled in a laugh, thinking Pio looked like a chipmunk with acorn-stuffed cheeks. He was already on his third slice of pizza (after devouring two bacon sandwiches), and she wondered if they should have had two boxes delivered instead of one. She had underestimated his appetite.
“Obviously not,” she said and squeezed a packet of hot sauce on her pizza slice. “Why can’t you tell me anyway? Are you embarrassed?”
“No. Two years, more or less.”
“Lies.”
“Hey!” Pio protested, his smooth, bare chest puffing up in mild annoyance. “It’s the truth.”
She knew she shouldn’t be making conclusions about Pio’s personal life, but he did seem like a guy who liked parties, drinks, and women. And not necessarily in that order.
“I’ve had my share of hookups, sure. I’m not a saint.” He finished his pizza slice and grabbed the big bottle of Coke that sat by the foot of her bed. A short hiss escaped the bottle when he twisted the cap open. “But things like that were easier to get away with when nobody cared so much about who I was.”
Audrey handed him two empty mugs. “Aha. Showbiz-imposed celibacy.”
“You could say that,” he said with a chuckle, pouring Coke into both mugs and taking one of them. “And...well, I met someone last year. I thought we could’ve hit it off well, but that didn’t work out, so.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. We’re friends. I’m good.”
“Good for you, then.”
“To friends.” Pio raised his mug to her. They did a quick toast and chugged, ahh-ing afterward like they drank ice-cold beer instead of carbonated soda. The monstrous burp that came out of him made Audrey giggle until she had to belch too.
He made a face. “You are disgusting.”
“Why thank you. So are you.”
She missed laughing like this, but more importantly, she missed laughing with someone like this. This weekend was a gift, and she was already dreading leaving it behind for the comfort of her office cubicle.
“What’s your pet peeve?” he asked, and just like that she knew he was back to Q&A mode. Audrey still couldn’t believe all Pio wanted out of this arrangement was to get to know her, but she supposed that was the case for people who already had everything.
“Waiting in line.”
“Little Miss Impatient.”
“I like productivity, thank you very much,” she said. Her eyes traveled the length of Pio’s torso and found his immaculate skin infuriating. She almost wanted to pat herself on the back for vandalizing it. “This is why mobile banking is a godsend.”
“Can’t argue with you on that.”
She poured them Coke shots, raised a toast to mobile banking, and took a swig. Pio flashed her a smug grin when he burped louder than she did. It was ridiculous, and she loved it.
Later, he puckered his lips and nodded toward her exposed collarbone. “Why did you get that tattoo?”
“Rite of passage, I guess?” Audrey looked down at her ligaya tattoo, now partly hidden by the shirt she put on when the pizza delivery came. “A lot of things had to change after college. A lot of things had to be given up in favor of practicality, responsibility…”
“Like theatre.”
A nod. “Mom always said they named me Joy because I brought joy to their lives after years and years of trying to conceive. That stayed with me, and all my life I tried my best to live up to my name.
“When dad’s stroke paralyzed him, I immediately knew what role I had to take for my family after I graduated. Not gonna lie, I cried a lot about that. I had dreams, lofty ones that didn’t necessarily equate to a stable income.”
Audrey laughed softly, recalling her plans to intern at a theatre company so she could learn more about production design. Those went down the drain, together with her dreams of traveling to London and New York to see musicals and plays and immersing herself in the culture.
“Mom almost blew her top when she saw this tattoo, you know. She thought it was a form of rebellion. But really, this was how I reminded myself of the choices I made. I am my family’s ligaya, and I will do everything I can to make sure they’re happy.”
Pio looked thoughtful as he listened, mug cradled between his hands. “Well...” He sighed. “Good thing we’re doing this then.”
“What—sex?”
He laughed. “That’s also good, but...what I meant was it’s a good thing we’re keeping you from spiraling down an abyss of misery.”
“I’d protest abyss of misery, but you’re not far off,” Audrey admitted with a shake of her head. “You saw it. I was a pathetic drunk two months after a break up. Two months!”
“Ten years is a long time, Audrey.”
“A
nd yet Lui—” She paused and bit her lip. Luigi was able to start over, almost at the snap of a finger. Almost, because it had been over for him a long time ago, and that was his head start. Little did she know that while she was pinning a lot of her new dreams on a future with Luigi, he was busy searching for an escape route.
Pio’s hand reached across the pizza box between them, thumb brushing away crumbs of pizza crust from the side of her lips. “You’ll get there.”
“By faking my happiness, yes.”
“Only until it feels real,” he said, winking at her. “Then you can wear your happiness like second skin again. Then you can continue truly being your family’s ligaya. After all, you can’t give anyone what you don’t have.”
Cliché as it might sound, waking up next to Pio Alvez seemed like a dream.
He had showered before bed, and he smelled so good Audrey couldn’t deny herself the pleasure of snuggling against his neck for a little while. Pio stirred in his sleep and pulled her close to him, one leg hooking around hers as if saying, “Mine, all mine.”
Saying she didn’t ache for this kind of intimacy would be a lie. And really, it wasn’t just about the sex. Audrey missed the calm she felt whenever Luigi held her in his arms. So much that she had willingly jumped at the first opportunity presented to her without putting much thought to the possible repercussions. Pio signed up for this. They both did. And they were both consenting adults who knew a thing or two about flings and one-night stands.
This wasn’t going to be a problem.
Right?
“What time is it?” Pio mumbled into her hair, his sleepy, raspy voice tickling her ear. She closed her eyes and let the warm, tingling feeling travel down her back, all the way to her toes.
“Six. Ish.”
“What time do you have to leave for work?”
“Seven-thirty.”
He opened his eyes and looked at her, half squinting. “I’ll drive you. I have a meeting in Salcedo at nine.”
“Okay. Would you like some breakfast?” Her lips brushed against his stubbly chin when she lifted her head. She couldn’t resist leaving a kiss there, so she did.
Pio replied with a kiss on her forehead. “If it means you’re getting up now, no. Let’s just drive through a McDonald’s or something.”
“So unhealthy.”
“This is coming from someone who insisted on pizza last night?”
Audrey laughed. “Well, we burned those calories right after.”
There was a sleepy smirk on his face when he looked at her again. “So what are you trying to say? Hm?” he asked, playfully grazing his stubbly chin along her neck.
“Nothing!” she squeaked, whining in protest because how dare he exploit her weakness. Two can play this game, she thought, retaliating with a poke to his ribs. Pio backed off so quickly, he ended up sliding off the bed with a thud.
“Ha!” Audrey exclaimed, bounced on the mattress with raised arms. She was about to gloat a little more, but a sudden knock on the door interrupted her victory dance.
The familiar rhythm caught her by surprise. What’s Luigi doing here?
And then it hit her.
After cleaning out her apartment last week, she sent a message to Luigi saying he could collect his things if he still wanted them, else she’ll be donating them at the end of the month. And because he never replied, she was under the impression he wasn’t keen on picking up the things he left behind.
Her eyes darted to Pio, who stood up and rubbed his backside. “Lui’s here. Probably to pick up his stuff,” she explained and jumped out of bed. She grabbed the knob of the bedroom door, intending to close it behind her. “Just stay here and be quiet.”
“You mean hide? When this is the perfect opportunity to show your ex that you’ve completely moved on?”
“Pio.”
Another knock.
“What? Come on...it’ll be fun!” Pio said and grabbed his shirt from the bedside table. “I can open the door and you can relish the look on his face when he sees me.”
Audrey recalled the short conversation she had with Luigi at the office and the look on his face when she said she found someone better than him. The mental image of his arrogant smile growing slack was her badge of honor.
Pio was right. She didn’t even need to stage anything at this point. All she had to do was stand there and let Pio do the work.
“—abs?”
Audrey blinked away her train of thought and turned to Pio, who was still only wearing his gray boxer briefs. “What?”
“I asked if your ex has abs.”
“Last I remember? Yes.”
“Well then.” Pio cleared his throat and put his shirt on in haste. “Abs aren’t everything, anyway…”
He made a beeline for the front door, ignoring Audrey, who was struggling to suppress her laughter.
“I’m here for—” Luigi, whose expression was all business when the door swung open, suddenly had a look of shock and confusion. His eyes lingered on Pio, and Audrey knew her ex was already making assumptions about why the actor was in her house wearing boxer briefs and a white undershirt. It took Luigi more than a few seconds to look past Pio and at her. He cleared his throat. “I’m picking up my stuff.”
“Great,” Audrey said, trying to sound as casual as she could manage. She jerked her thumb toward the box marked X near the misplaced couch. “It’s already taking up too much space.”
Luigi didn’t seem like he was dressed for the office today, Audrey thought, noting his dark blue polo shirt and khaki shorts when he stepped into her apartment. She stepped away from the general direction of the box, as though afraid she’d suddenly cling to him like a magnet if he came too close.
“Would you like some help with that?” Pio asked when Luigi knelt beside the box to examine its contents.
“No. I can manage.”
A pang of nostalgia hit her when Luigi opened the box and looked through his things. She looked away, locking gazes with Pio instead.
“Are you okay?” Pio mouthed.
She responded with a faint smile. “Babe...”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Luigi react to the term of endearment. Pio, meanwhile, jerked an eyebrow in surprise.
“Please lock the door when Luigi leaves,” Audrey continued and walked to the bathroom. “I’ll go shower now.”
“Sure.” The smile on Pio’s face was the boyish, up-to-no-good kind. “I’ll be right with you...babe.”
THIRTEEN
“W ell, finally!” Datu Alvez snatched the music sheets Pio presented him with and stared at the score for a good minute. He looked up at his little brother. “Piano?”
“Your call. I did it on the guitar because I thought it would match the mood of your film, but I guess piano is good too.”
The older Alvez simply jerked his head at the acoustic guitar sitting at the corner of his small studio. Pio shuffled toward it and pulled it from its stand, gently strumming the strings to make sure the instrument was in tune. He then sat on the chair Datu grabbed for him, cracked his knuckles, and began playing.
Datu requesting Pio to write a musical score for one of his projects was a recent development, as far as the youngest Alvez was concerned. The second Alvez son was notorious for being secretive about the work he did. A little too secretive, in fact, that he would disappear with his film team for months and resurface only when his projects were already screening at some film festival. It was just how Datu operated, and the family had already learned to deal with it.
This favor though, came as a puzzle to Pio at first, until he eventually realized this was Datu pulling him out of his funk. Where Isagani focused on health and wellness, Datu was all about exploring Pio’s untapped musical abilities. And while Datu would never admit to such intentions, Pio simply thanked him in his own way.
Like actually spending time and effort working on a musical score that would fit his brother’s new short film. Pio was provided a summary—three brothers and
a dog go on a road trip—and some rushes. Datu never gave him a deadline.
Fingers light on the strings, Pio opened Datu’s story with an easy melody, the kind conducive to curling up in bed on a cool, sunny morning. The tempo picked up a little later, the notes swelling in happy waves signaling the start of a spontaneous road trip. When Pio switched from fingerstyle to muted strumming, the score took on an edgy feel, with a pace that escalated like the speed of a vehicle on a carless highway.
He tapped his foot on the floor and let the music dictate the flow of the story back to him—three brothers on a road trip encounter an old, stray dog on the highway and decide to take it along with them, nursing it on the way but losing it in the process—until he fell back into a relaxed rhythm that’s part mournful and part optimistic. He ended the same way he began, the bright opening melody now played with an extra chord that seemed to pad along with the rest. Like a stray dog that followed you wherever you went.
Datu’s face was inscrutable when Pio looked to him for feedback. But just when Pio thought he had failed, Datu turned toward his computer, opened his editing console, and pulled up a rough cut of his project. “Do it again,” he told Pio, fingers ready to hit Play.
Pio smiled. This was a win.
“Kuya, do you know someone named Luigi Blanco?” Pio asked much later, after they had finished a raw recording of the score he wrote. Datu had four Big Macs delivered, and they were chowing it down in the middle of editing.
The look of concentration on Datu’s face turned a little too severe. He shot Pio a curious but stern look. “Why, what did he do to you?”
“Nothing,” he replied, taken aback at his brother’s reaction. Datu obviously knew the guy. And from the looks of it, they weren’t friends nor friendly acquaintances. “I just worked with his company recently. He said you were batch mates.”
“Guy’s a jerk. Always have been.” With his eyes back on the computer screen, Datu moved his mouse around and spliced Pio’s audio file, dragging it under the video layer. “I don’t even know why he keeps sending me invitations for his events when I’ve ignored them since day 1.”
