June 1, 2009

Dylan

The sizzle of the egg as it hit the frying pan reminded Dylan of the mornings back in the province, where the air was fresher and life seemed simpler. The memory of waking up to the rooster's crow and the sound of rustling leaves brought a small smile to his face. He began his descent down the narrow staircase, careful not to trip over his new school shoes. They were a size too big, a practical purchase by his mother, who always thought ahead, hoping they would last through the next school year. Dylan's footfalls were soft on the worn wooden steps, each creak echoing the house's history.

When he reached the modest dining area, the familiar aroma of breakfast greeted him, mingling with the scent of freshly brewed coffee. A plate of sunny-side-up eggs, fried rice, sausages, and pan de sal sat invitingly on the table, steam rising in gentle tendrils. His father, Lucas, engrossed in the morning newspaper, looked up and raised his eyebrows in a silent greeting, a warm smile playing on his lips. Both father and son were embarking on new journeys today: his father starting his first day as a supervisor at a small restaurant in Emerald Hills, and Dylan attending his first day at St. Michael’s Catholic School.

Dylan’s mother, Ella, with her shoulder-length hair loosely twisted into a bun and held in place by a single chopstick, placed a pitcher of lemonade on the table. Her movements were graceful; a dance she had perfected over the years of managing their household. She then took a seat beside her husband, her eyes turning to Dylan as he scooped fried rice onto his plate, her gaze filled with a mixture of pride and concern.

"Are you excited for your first day?" she asked, her voice had a tone of encouragement.

No, Dylan wanted to say. The thought of St. Michael’s, with its pristine uniforms and manicured lawns, filled him with a sense of dread. The place seemed pretentious, and everyone appeared snooty. He had only secured a spot because he passed the scholarship examination, a fact that made him feel even more out of place. Instead of voicing his apprehensions, he settled for a neutral response. "I don’t know how to feel about it yet," he said, pricking a sausage with his fork before taking a bite.

His father folded the newspaper and set it aside, giving Dylan his full attention. "It’s okay to feel that way, son. New beginnings can be tough, but you’ll find your way," Lucas said, his voice steady and reassuring.

Dylan nodded, appreciating his father’s attempt to comfort him, but the knot in his stomach remained. He wondered if he would ever fit in at a school where he felt like an outsider before even stepping foot in the gates. The fear of not belonging gnawed at him, a constant undercurrent to his thoughts.

As they ate in relative silence, the reality of the day ahead began to settle over Dylan. His mind drifted to the towering gates of St. Michael’s, the pristine uniforms, and the faces of strangers who would soon become his classmates. The thought of walking into that environment was daunting, but there was no turning back now.

His mother’s voice broke through his thoughts. "Remember, Dylan, it’s not about where you come from, but what you make of the opportunities you have."

He looked at her, seeing the willpower in her eyes. She had always been a pillar of strength for their family, working tirelessly as a home maker to ensure they had what they needed.

"I know, Mom," he replied, trying to muster as much confidence as he could. "I’ll do my best."

"That's good to hear, Dylan," Ella said, smiling before turning to her husband. "Honey, I need about three thousand pesos for five bags of flour for our bakery. Will you be able to give me some today so I can go to the bakery supply store and buy some?"

Lucas looked down at the table, letting out a fatigued breath. The lines on his face seemed deeper, etched by the stress and worry of their financial troubles. Dylan knew that his father did not have enough money after losing their restaurant last summer because of a scammer. The financial strain was a heavy burden, and Dylan could see the toll it was taking on his father.

"I have some," Lucas said quietly, though the uncertainty in his voice was palpable. The loss of their restaurant had been a devastating blow, one that they were still recovering from. Dylan felt a pang of guilt, wishing he could do something to help. "But please, just don’t buy too much too soon, you know money’s been pretty tight, Ella."

Ella sighed, her shoulders drooping slightly as she looked at her husband. "I know, honey, I know. I’m not even sure if our bakery will do well, but we have to try. We can’t just give up."

Lucas nodded. "You're right. We have to keep going, for Dylan and ourselves. We'll find a way to make it work."

The air in the room grew heavier with the weight of unspoken worries. Dylan watched his parents, feeling the burden of their struggles but also a sense of pride in their resilience. They had always managed to find a way, no matter how difficult the circumstances. His mother’s unwavering tenacity and his father’s quiet strength were the only things that kept their family standing.

Ella reached across the table and took Lucas’s hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We’ll get through this, together. Just like we always have."

Lucas returned the squeeze, a faint smile appearing on his lips. "Together," he echoed.

Dylan felt a surge of fortitude rise within him. His parents were doing everything they could to keep their family afloat, and he was determined to do his part. He might not be able to contribute financially yet, but he could excel in his studies and make the most of the opportunities presented to him. He could honor their sacrifices by giving his best at St. Michael’s.

As they finished their breakfast, Ella got up to clear the table, her movements purposeful and efficient. Lucas stood and stretched, preparing himself for the day ahead. Dylan grabbed his school bag, feeling somewhat energized. Today was the start of something new for all of them.

EJ

EJ was sitting at the dining table, alone, on that particular morning, inside the vast and opulent confines of his parents' Belmont McMansion. The grand chandeliers overhead, the marble countertops, and the expansive windows overlooking the manicured gardens all seemed to amplify the silence that filled the house. His parents, Ellison and Laura, along with his older brother, Elliott, had left much earlier than usual. Ellison and Laura were heading off on an important business trip to Singapore, where they would be attending several high-profile meetings that would keep them away for at least a month. Meanwhile, Elliott, who was in his final year of medical school, was flying out to Palawan for a medical mission, a voluntary assignment that would give him the hands-on experience he needed while helping those in need.

With their departures, EJ found himself alone at the breakfast table, methodically cutting into his waffles, which were perfectly golden and topped with fresh berries and a drizzle of maple syrup. The morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow on the table, but it did little to chase away the loneliness he felt.

“How’re you liking your waffle, EJ?” a familiar, comforting voice asked.

EJ looked up to see Mama Lydia, their longtime house helper, standing in the doorway with a warm smile on her face. Mama Lydia had been with the family for as long as EJ could remember. She had practically raised him, showering him with the kind of unconditional love and support that he had always wanted from his mother. To EJ, she was more than just a house helper; she was his Mama. In EJ’s eyes, being a mother was not about biology but about the love and care one provided. Mama Lydia had always been there for him, supporting him, nurturing him, and never making him feel like he had to compete for her affection, unlike his parents, who often seemed to pit him against Elliott in their quest for excellence.

“It’s good, Mama,” EJ replied, his face lighting up with a genuine smile. “But please, come eat with me. I don’t want to be alone.”

Mama Lydia’s eyes softened with love and understanding. She walked over, pulling out a chair to join him at the table. For EJ, her presence brought a sense of warmth and belonging that filled the emptiness left by his family’s absence. Together, they shared the meal, and in that moment, the grand McMansion felt a little less empty and a little more like home.

Mama Lydia peered at EJ, her eyes twinkling with genuine interest. She sat across from him at the kitchen table. “Are you excited to go to school, my dear?” she asked, her voice soft and encouraging.

EJ shrugged his shoulders, his expression a mixture of mild enthusiasm and subdued disappointment. “I’m excited to see my friends,” he replied, his eyes drifting towards the window as if he could already see the schoolyard bustling with the laughter and chatter of his classmates. He paused, his brow furrowing slightly as he gathered his thoughts, the weight of unspoken words evident in the way he hesitated.

After a moment, he continued, his tone tinged with a hint of resignation. “I had to turn down their invites to get-togethers because Mom and Dad want me to focus on studying for the UPCAT next year.” His voice carried a faint note of sadness, revealing the conflict he felt between his desire for social connections and his academic responsibilities.

Mama Lydia’s eyes softened with empathy as she listened to EJ’s words. She reached across the table, placing a comforting hand on his. “I understand, my dear,” she said gently, her fingers giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s not easy to miss out on those moments with your friends. But please try to bear with your parents, even though it feels unfair sometimes. They only want what’s best for you.” Her voice was steady and filled with a mother’s compassion, her gaze meeting his with a gesture of understanding.

The pressure EJ was feeling somewhat eased. He could see the sincerity in her expression and felt a glimmer of encouragement. “I know they mean well,” he said, his voice softening. “It’s just hard to balance everything sometimes.”

Mama Lydia gave a gentle nod. “I know it is, my dear. But remember, this is just a stepping stone. One day, you’ll look back and see how all of this was worth it. For now, try to focus on the little things that make you happy, like spending time with your friends and enjoying your first day.”

EJ took a deep breath, feeling a bit more at ease. “Thanks, Mama,” he said quietly, a small, appreciative smile forming on his lips. “I guess I’ll try to make the best of it.”

Mama Lydia’s smile widened, and she gave his hand one last reassuring squeeze before letting go. “That’s the spirit. And remember, I’m always here for you, no matter what.”