Dylan

            Dylan couldn’t stop thinking about his interaction with EJ earlier. It wasn't just the encounter itself that lingered in his mind; it was also the way EJ looked at him, the smile that lit up his eyes, the smooth cadence of his voice, and the fact that he immediately noticed Dylan was a transfer student. There was something about EJ's demeanor that seemed to resonate with him, a recognition that Dylan couldn’t quite place but felt deeply intertwined in his mind.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "Dylan...here you go again. You’ve got to stop doing this," he muttered to himself, his voice echoing slightly in the empty hallway. He knew it was unwise to develop fleeting feelings for people he’d just met—especially for boys like EJ. Even though he was confident his parents would love him no matter what, he feared others wouldn’t be as accepting. So, he decided to keep his true self hidden, a secret locked away behind a carefully constructed façade.

He vividly remembered the first time he developed a crush on one of his classmates. Jordan Hidalgo was a varsity basketball player and one of Dylan’s good friends. But when Jordan discovered Dylan’s feelings, he started to ignore him. That painful experience made Dylan shut off his emotions, retreating deeper into the closet. Their friends in Albay found it odd that the once inseparable duo had suddenly become distant. Dylan always blamed himself for destroying everything. The memory of Jordan’s cold shoulder and the whispered gossip that followed haunted him, making him wary of opening up to anyone new.

As he looked around the cafeteria, everything seemed expensive. He only had ₱100 and needed to spend it wisely. After examining the prices, he realized that not only did the food look expensive, but it truly did cost and arm and a leg. Suddenly, he missed the simplistic, budget-friendly cafeteria food from his old high school. "Maybe I should ask Mom to cook lunch for me instead of buying it," he thought contemplatively.

Settling for a ₱50 sandwich, Dylan scanned the cafeteria for a place to eat. Everyone seemed to be friends with everyone else, and there were no vacant tables. Even if there had been, it would be embarrassing to eat alone. He took a deep breath and decided to head up to his classroom to eat there. The noise and chatter of the cafeteria faded as he climbed the stairs.

When he arrived, the classroom was empty. A part of him had hoped EJ would be there, but of course, EJ probably had friends. He was likely not a friendless loser like Dylan felt himself to be. Sighing, Dylan unwrapped his sandwich and sat down at his desk, the silence of the empty classroom amplifying his loneliness. The sound of the paper crinkling as he unwrapped his lunch seemed deafening in the stillness. He took a bite, chewing slowly as he stared out the window, lost in thought.

The view from the classroom window offered a glimpse of the school courtyard, where groups of students laughed and chatted, oblivious to his isolation. Dylan wondered what it would be like to be a part of one of those groups, to feel the warmth of friendship instead of the chill of seclusion. His mind drifted back to EJ, imagining what it would be like to have someone like him as a friend, someone who noticed him and made him feel seen.

EJ

EJ sat at a corner table in the bustling cafeteria, surrounded by his three best friends, Ken, Steven, and Theodore. The air was filled with the conversation of students and the clatter of trays, but their table had its unique buzz. Theodore, a die-hard Lady Gaga fan, had launched into an enthusiastic discussion about the "Paparazzi" music video, declaring it the best pop release of 2009.

EJ picked at his lunch, half-listening to Theodore’s animated praises. He couldn’t help but recall the school director—a stern-faced priest—warning them during orientation about the dangers of listening to artists who, according to him, promoted immoral behavior. The memory left a bitter taste in EJ’s mouth. How could the administration pass judgment on their music choices while turning a blind eye to last year’s scandal, where a female student had accused a PE teacher of inappropriate behavior? It was a glaring example of their selective morality.

“EJ, are you even listening to me?” Theodore’s voice cut through his thoughts. He was sipping on his lemonade, his thick eyelashes fluttering as he spoke. EJ knew Theodore secretly wore a bit of makeup, despite the disapproval of some of the strictly religious teachers who loudly proclaimed that makeup was for girls.

“Yeah,” EJ replied, snapping back to the present.

Theodore raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “And what were we talking about?”

“Uh…Lady Gaga?” EJ offered. He knew the topic, but the specifics of the conversation had slipped by him.

Theodore nodded, eyes narrowing playfully. “And what about Lady Gaga?”

Busted.

“Uh—about her new album?” EJ guessed.

Theodore rolled his eyes with a playful smirk. “This is what happens when you don’t go out much during the summer. You need to get out more.”

EJ chuckled, a sound that lacked genuine amusement. Try having parents like mine, and you’ll see what it’s like to be me. It was a familiar refrain he offered whenever his friends criticized his reclusiveness. They didn’t understand the pressure he was under—his parents had made it clear it was Ivy League or nothing. Failure wasn’t an option, not with the shadow of his older brother Elliott’s smug superiority on the horizon.

His friends couldn’t grasp that reality, the expectations that he needed to exceed. To them, it seemed like EJ was choosing isolation, but in truth, he felt trapped. Every decision, every action, was scrutinized under the harsh light of his parents' ambitions for him. It was as if they had mapped out his life before he had a chance to even consider his dreams.

EJ's parents, particularly his father, had always been high achievers. They held prestigious jobs, were well-respected in their fields, and expected nothing less from their children. Elliott, EJ's older brother, had already met and exceeded those expectations, securing a place at the country’s best Medical School and boasting an impeccable academic record. EJ, on the other hand, felt the crushing burden of having to live up to that legacy. It wasn't just about getting good grades or participating in extracurricular activities; it was about being perfect in every conceivable way.

His friends, Ken, Steven, and Theodore, came from more laid-back families. They had their pressures and struggles, but none were as relentless and demanding as EJ’s. Ken’s parents encouraged him to pursue his passion for music, even if it didn’t lead to a lucrative career. Steven’s folks were happy as long as he was happy, always telling him to find a balance between work and play. Theodore, despite his struggles with expressing his identity in a conservative environment, knew his family loved him unconditionally.

EJ often found himself envying their freedom. The freedom to make mistakes, to explore different interests, to live without the constant fear of disappointing their parents. For EJ, failure wasn’t just an option; it was a catastrophe. His parents had drilled into him that anything less than excellence was unacceptable. They had invested so much in him, from private tutors to elite summer programs, and they expected a return of their investment.

This pressure had turned EJ into someone he hardly recognized. He spent hours buried in textbooks, his social life a mere afterthought. While his friends enjoyed the summer at the beach or took spontaneous road trips, EJ was stuck at home, his days filled with UPCAT prep and college applications. The rare moments he did spend with his friends were tainted by a sense of guilt as if he was stealing time from his academic responsibilities.

Theodore’s comment about needing to get out more hit close to home. It wasn’t that EJ didn’t want to; he craved the carefree laughter and the spontaneous adventures. But how could he explain to them that every second spent away from his studies felt like a betrayal of his parents’ trust? How could he make them understand that his seclusion wasn’t a choice, but a necessity?

Even now, as they sat in the cafeteria, EJ could feel the invisible chains of his parents’ expectations binding him. He listened to Theodore’s light-hearted banter and Ken’s jokes, but there was always a part of him that remained detached, unable to fully engage.

            “EJ?” Theodore’s voice broke through his thoughts again, softer this time. “You okay?”

EJ looked up, meeting Theodore’s concerned gaze. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, forcing a smile.

But he wasn’t fine. He was tired—tired of the expectations, the hypocrisy, and the constant pressure to be someone he wasn’t sure he wanted to be. He longed for a moment of genuine freedom, a chance to breathe without the heaviness of his parents’ dreams suffocating him.