“Don’t you think this place is too shabby?” Kris asked while exploring Yani’s secluded shop in Quiapo. The place didn’t seem like a place for local shamans at all. As a matter of fact, the entire place felt like a western metaphysical store—surrounded by a mixture of red and gold curtains and random tarot cards hanging from the ceiling.

“Shabby? I decorated it myself.” Yani, busy with setting the place up for opening hours, didn’t realize the intentional offense Kris attempted.

“No wonder.” Kris shook his head. He looked around once again—taking a glimpse of a crystal ball on top of a short drawer, and right beside it was a lava lamp displayed over an Ouija board. “You’re more culturally inclusive than America.”

“Aww, thanks!”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

Yani chuckled to himself, then walked towards the latter’s direction. “You should seriously stop judging my shop. Those props give energy to the place.”

“Energy? Spiritual energy comes from nature, not the department store.”

“Who said anything about spiritual energy?”

“Educated me then. Are there some other forms of energy you derive power from?”

“I’m talking about my energy when I get plenty of earnings!”

Kris sighed. 

“What a broke loser.”

“What? I’m serious! Those make the place seem more legit than it already is. Customers come because of great marketing!”

Yani crossed his arms. “Besides, you’re the one who invited yourself to my shop all of a sudden, so don’t go complaining.”

“Only so it’s easy for me to exorcise you if you ever do anything dangerously stupid.” Kris turned around as though his likeness was too great to be met by Yani.

Yani’s shoulders dropped. Why is this guy so rigid? “Alright, master. I’ll be a good boy.” He voiced out in a mocking tone.

Without even needing to open his mouth, and his back facing the latter, Kris pulled out his bamboo stick as a warning. Ultimately, the talkative man beside him stepped back and knew exactly what that action meant. With annoyance forming on Yani’s face, he thought, OF COURSE YOU’D HAVE A SPANKING TOOL AS A WEAPON, OH GREAT MASTER! YOU KINKY BOSSY MIDGE- As though Kris could read Yani’s mind, he turned his body slightly over. In an instant, Yani changed his face to a more obedient look, and a smile inversely arching to meet both of his ears.

The shop hours began slowly. After all, it was a weekday, and people were far too busy in their jobs or studies to visit a mangkukulam. Yani only ever gets continuously flowing customers during integral times like the beginning of the year, Christmas season, and Valentine’s Day. Well, that’s saying a lot since Yani only began doing this when he reached the 11th grade. Nevertheless, he doesn’t really care about the money. He simply enjoys doing the things that he likes, no matter how niche and different it is.

Just when Yani thought that tonight would be one of those with no customers, a glimmer of hope suddenly appeared. The door chime rang gracefully, and he fixed his posture straight to welcome the new customer. Kris, who was there to simply observe, sat on a stool behind Yani and his “mystical” table—somewhat curious of how the latter uses his power. But of course, it’s not like he expects anything great from him.

With his eyes hidden from his usual cloak-style hoodie, Yani extended his hands to where he guessed the new customer may be. For an outsider, the ambiance of the place added to the mystery and thrill from the experience. Candles were lit, dim lamps were active, and white noise from the chaos outside were minimally muted. “I expected you to come here. Fate told me that you would need my assistance.” Yani uttered in a low tone.

When Yani raised his head up a little bit, he was met with a tall and large figure. A man seemingly in his early twenties with well defined features—sharp and rugged. This made Yani gulp. The customer’s presence was definitely remarkable. Intimidating, even. Oh, lord. THOSE BICEPS! Ok, Yani. Get your head out of the  gutter. “Please, make yourself comfortable. You may take your seat over here.” He gestured to the wooden chair on the other side of his table.

The customer sat down—still with a serious look on his face. He was observing the place. Eyes drifted from Yani, to Kris behind him, and to the rest of the cramped shop. “Tell me. What is your name?” Yani lit up a candle on the table. It wasn’t a part of any ritual, he just did it for a cinematic view for the people outside the fourth wall. Each flicker sent out a greyish smoke—bringing with it a lavender scent. Definitely, that candle was bought from an online store—not made with enchantment.

“Asking my name? I thought fate led me here. Shouldn’t you already know that?” The customer crossed his legs. Just like his strong physique, his personality is equally as strong. If Yani was an amateur, he would’ve panicked from the question. However, he’s been through this so many times. Some (none) might even say that he’s a professional. He knows just what to do.

Yani laughed. Not even a chuckle. A laugh. The type that you would hear from an anime character writing down their enemies in a Death Note. The customer? Of course he looked at him as though he’s talking to a hysterical man. Kris? He simply faced the wall—unable to handle the cringe.

“My my, you dare question my authenticity?”

“I- I think that’s valid?” The customer eyed Yani up and down.

“Well, let me prove it to you.”

“How?”

Yani smirked and took the guy’s hand. The customer was a bit startled, even almost jumping up from the chair. As a mangkukulam, Yani was gifted by an increased sense. Some may call it the sixth sense. In this ability, he’s able to feel differences in a person’s energy, see the unseen, and hear what can’t be heard. Most magic wielders possess a sixth sense. It is somewhat a requirement, after all. However, his was a little different. He could see more.

Yani closed his eyes. Then, he found himself in a blurry state—surrounded by unfamiliar people. An unfamiliar person. 

Kris observed the latter—thinking that it is another one of his shenanigans. The customer? He reciprocated Kris’s sentiments.

But in Yani’s mind…

“Hoy, Piolo! Let’s play basketball?”

“Hiking. Ano, tara?”

“Piolo, wanna play ML?”

“Piolo, let’s play billiards!”

“Hey, don’t you want to take her out for prom?”

“Don’t cry, I’m here… I’ll help you out, ok?”

“Promise me. When we get old and wrinkly, let’s live in a beach house in Bicol, ok?”

When the flashes of scenarios ended, Yani jolted awake. “HA!” He let go of the customer, panting. Then, he chuckled to himself. “All done!”

The customer looked at him in confusion. “So what exactly did that really prove?”

“Your name.”

“And that is?”

Yani set his posture straight, proud of himself. “Piolo. You are Piolo!”

“What?” The customer furrowed his brows.

“I said, your name is Piolo!” Yani patted himself on the shoulder, smug.

“No.”

A pause.

“What?”

“I’m… I’m not Piolo.”

Yani tilted his head, confused. Kris who was watching parts of it scoffed in disbelief. All that drama to make a fool out of yourself.

“But I swear I heard-” Before Yani could whine more, the customer spoke up.

“But I know now. You’re legit.” His rugged expression softened. This made Kris’s ears perk up. Could the idiot be on to something?

The customer sat down in a relaxed manner. “Piolo is a nickname given by someone important. Only he knows to call me that. No one else.”

Yani paused for a second. Then, “HA!” He eyed Kris from his peripheral vision, trying to prove a point.

Kris was quite surprised—wondering what trick the latter used. 

Yani then cleared his throat, going back to work. “I see. Then tell me, what is your name?”

“Jeremiah.”

“Wow, that’s… very close to Piolo.” Kris kicked Yani’s stool, finding the latter immature.

Jeremiah chuckled for a second. His demeanor already switched from what he had earlier on. “Yeah… it was a joke. That person, Mikey, said that I looked like the actor.”

Yani observed the latter’s face. “Wait, that’s true!” He cleared his throat. “I mean, wait, that’s true.,” switching back to his deep and mysterious tone when he remembered he was working. “So, what explains your presence in my shop?”

Jeremiah looked down on the velvety table by his side—almost embarrassed. “I want to know if you can make a love potion for me. A gayuma or something.”

“Gayuma? What for? Which girl in this world would not fall in love with you?” Yani once again broke out of character.

“Right, that’s the thing…”

“Hm?”

“He’s not a girl.”

The air around the room stopped flowing.

“Oh,” Yani uttered.

“Oh,” Kris followed along.

Jeremiah scratched the back of his head, and Kris noticed his discomfort. Not meaning to pry, but out of curiosity, he spoke up. “A gayuma comes with serious conditions. It’s conditional, temporary, and reversible.”

Yani scooted to Kris’s side and whispered, “Are you trying to make me lose my business?!” Kris ignored him.

Jeremiah looked at Kris. “I know. But it’s worth it. Maybe just for a short while, I could…”

“Could force the person you love to lose his free will?”

“I didn’t mean it like that! I won’t force him to be with me. I just want him to be comfortable enough so I could express myself… that way.”

Kris stepped forward, taking Yani’s stool (or maybe even his job). “Tell me about Mikey.”

“M-Mikey?” Jeremiah instantaneously blushed, fidgeting with his fingers. His bashful side that only comes out with the thought of his crush was quite a beautiful contrast from his tough exterior. “Well… he’s an outgoing guy. I often stay in my house alone, but he always takes me to new places so I could try new things with him. He’s my best friend. My person. Since high school.”

Kris listened thoroughly. Then, “If he’s that close with you, what made you need a gayuma?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Look at me.” He opened his arms, referencing his whole self. “I’m a man.”

Jeremiah sighed. “How could I ever bring myself to confess to him when I’m like this? I’m jacked and scary-looking. What kind of man would listen to my confession and not laugh or stare at me with disgust?”

Kris’s expression changed for a very short second. It’s funny how someone the exact opposite as me still manages to feel the same way I do. He felt somewhat stuck—not knowing what to say. But behind him, Yani stepped in, “Mikey wouldn’t.” 

Both Jeremiah and Kris looked at him.

“When I held your hand, I saw him… With you. The way he looks at you? Do you really think such disgust could come from those eyes?”

A pause.

Yani continued, “He loves you very dearly. Romantic or not. If you plan to use a gayuma, then so be it.” He opened a drawer then placed a small pre-made bottle on the table. “Just write down his full name.”

Yani smiled at Jeremiah. “But if you were to ask me, a gayuma wouldn’t be needed.” He sighed. Damn it, I guess that’s minus one customer for today. “I think no matter what you do, you both would get old and wrinkly in a beach house in Bicol.”

Jeremiah was silent. A very long second from him. It’s as though Yani’s words made him realize something very precious. He chuckled to himself and swept his hair back. “Right. What was I thinking?”

Jeremiah eyed the small bottle. “Alright, I’ll skip on that first.” He stood up, feeling refreshed. “I guess the rumors are true. You are legit. How much do I owe you?” 

“A hundre-” Kris covered Yani’s mouth and told Jeremiah, “It’s on the house. Good luck with your confession.”

Jeremiah chuckled, “Thanks!”

When Jeremiah left, the shop was already meant to close for the night. Later on, the two boys headed out into the streets of Quiapo. Yani promised to show Kris around the area with plenty of magic users so that the latter could proceed with his investigation.

Yani pouted, “I had no gains today because of you.”

“Don’t whine. It’s unethical to profit over someone’s emotional struggles.”

“Kris, we’re literally Psychology majors.”

“Then don’t hit two birds with one stone.”

Throughout their walk, the taller man was sulking. This somewhat annoyed Kris, but of course he can’t help but feel good about Yani since he did something nice for Jeremiah today. “Fine. Let’s eat dinner. My treat.”

“Really? YAY!” Yani threw his arm over Kris’s shoulder—resulting in the latter’s scowl.

“Anyway, I’m curious about something.” Kris mentions while pulling away from Yani.

“Hm? What is it?”

“A while ago… How did you know about the whole Piolo thing?”

“Hm? Sixth sense. Don’t you have it too?”

“No, I have a sixth sense. All magic users do. But… it’s not like we can mind read from it.”

“But I didn’t mind read.”

Kris paused from his steps. “Then what was that? babaylanes can’t see the past or future without connecting with the spirits. And even if we do, prophecies are never clear. They are all riddles.”

“I don’t know. I’ve had it since I was young. It’s my sixth sense… I could sense something from touching anything. But I don’t really know how it works or what exactly I’m seeing.”

“I see…”

“Anyway, we’re here!”

The two of them are finally beside the plaza where most magic shops were. Yani led the way. But when he looked into the stalls, something felt wrong. The anting-anting being sold, tarot readings, and more felt awfully lacking in energy.

“Uhm… Kris?”

“What?”

“I swear, I’m not playing with you. The real albularyos and stuff should be found here.”

Yani looked around the area. The healing massages? Gone. The smell of herbs? Missing. It’s almost as if the entire place became a hoax.

“Yani, there’s nothing in here.” Kris uttered.

“Weird… But isn’t that good? Maybe there’s no evil in Quiapo after all.”

“I hope…”