Chapter Text
Thursday:
The day finally came, the exams. There will always be examinations, no matter what grade level people are, even adults are not free from tests.
The campus was quiet, hushed as the students were focused, locked into their paper.
The classroom door creaked open. Mark stepped in.
The sound was heard through the quiet class, turning the students’ attention to Mark as he entered. He entered like he was a wanted criminal as the eyes of his classmates were locked onto him.
Mark said nothing.
He walked with no confidence. He was slow, his eyes dull and lifeless. He made his way to his seat, lowering himself into the chair.
His eyes landed on the exam paper already placed neatly on his desk, staring blankly.
He picked up his pen and wrote his name.
Cathy, seated nearby, noticed him. Her expression shifted the moment she saw his lifeless stare. Her heart sank.
“Mark…” she whispered softly, her voice laced with concern.
He didn’t respond.
His eyes stayed fixed on the untouched questions. After a minute, he set the pen down gently and leaned back in his chair. He had given up.
Louise, at a few desks away, noticed Mark’s state. She paused for a second, watching him with curiosity before turning back to her paper.
Mark further leaned back, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t care anymore.
Cathy glanced once more at him. The sight of him twisted her gut, feeling an unexplainable guilt. Slowly, she returned to her paper, her energy waning.
At the front of the class, Sir Armando observed the room. He sighed, shaking his head, disappointed.
Time passed, and Mark hadn’t written a single answer.
Eventually, Sir Armando stood up. He made his way to Mark’s desk and stopped in front of him.
Mark didn’t even look up.
“Mark,” Sir Armando said. His voice was low, firm, but not harsh—more disappointed than angry. “Meet me in my office later today, okay?”
Still, Mark didn’t respond. Instead, he turned towards the window, gaze distant.
Sir Armando sighed again, then returned to his desk.
Louise, who had been observing, shook her head. Disappointed, she turned back to her paper.
Mark kept staring out the window, as though trying to lose himself in the view.
Lunch break…
Mark sat alone on his usual seat in the gym. The usually busy basketball court was empty and quiet.
He didn’t move nor speak. He just stared forward, unmoving, like a stone.
“Kuya Mark!”
A voice snapped him out.
He turned slowly.
It was Cathy, walking toward him with her usual bright smile.
She plopped down beside him. “Phew! That exam was brutal, right?” she said cheerfully, hoping to lift his mood.
Mark didn’t respond. He just turned back to face the court.
Cathy tilted her head. “…Ku—Mark?” She softened her tone. “Is something wrong?”
Still no response.
Mark stared at the ground, wanting to say something, but he hesitated.
Seeing his face from the side, Cathy shifted, gently leaning forward to peek at him—but Mark turned away again, avoiding meeting her eyes. Pressure inside him was building up, and he was trying hard to keep it down.
Cathy sat back, her smile went away, replacing it with remorse. She looked at him one last time before lowering her gaze.
An awkward silence settled between them, heavy and tense.
Finally, Mark spoke. “I didn’t… study,” he said quietly, while not seeing her face.
Cathy’s eyes widened. She turned toward him. “Why?”
He didn’t answer.
“I thought you studied? What about Prez’s notes?”
At the mention of Louise’s notes, the memory from last night came back to him, it reminded him of how those notes were torn apart before his eyes.
His chest tightened. His hand clenched into a fist.
“…Did something happen last night?” Cathy asked, leaning in slightly. “What did you do?”
The weight of her questions became too much.
Mark’s patience cracked.
He finally turned toward her, his eyes flaring with frustration, glaring.
Cathy leaned back, startled by his expression.
“…Kuya Mark…”
But Mark backed down, composing himself from his emotions spilling over. He let out a deep exhale—trying to cool the heat that had built up inside.
He averted his gaze, once again turning away from Cathy.
Cathy tried again, her voice soft but filled with concern.
“Tell me, Kuya Mark… what’s wrong? Do you want to study now? We can study he—”
Mark cut her off. “Yesterday, where were you… last night?” His tone was firm, but not angry.
“…Huh?”
Mark turned to her again, locking her eyes. “What were you doing last night?”
Cathy blinked, momentarily thrown off. She wasn’t expecting that. “Wha—?” she started, confused.
After a brief pause, she finally asked, “Why are you asking me that?”
“I just want to know.” His voice stayed calm, but beneath it was tense. “Where were you last night?”
She furrowed slightly. “Is that what the message you sent was all about? Last night?”
Mark didn’t respond. He just stared—his expression serious, quietly pleading for a real answer.
Cathy grew uneasy. Her expression shifted into suspicion. “Wait… How do you know I went out last night?”
Mark replied hesitantly. “I… saw you. I was at the station.”
He swallowed. “You looked… sad.”
Cathy’s eyes widened, surprised.
Another silence fell between them as they stared at each other.
Mark’s gaze was unwavering, still waiting.
Cathy, after the pause, blinked and shook her head, trying to brush it off. “I just went out for a walk, that’s all,” she said with a small smile, but it was forced.
Mark’s face fell, he was caught off guard. “But I followed you,” he said, desperation slipping into his voice. “I saw you… You went to Liamson.”
“Liamson?” Cathy replied. “Why would I go there?”
“That’s where you were headed!”
“Nah,” Cathy said, shrugging. “You probably just saw someone else.”
With that, Mark couldn’t take her evasiveness any longer.
He stood up suddenly. “I’M SERIOUS, CATHY!”
His voice echoed through the gym, freezing everything around them.
Cathy flinched, stunned by the sudden outburst. Her eyes were wide.
“I’m worried about you!” Mark said, his voice cracking, weighed by his emotions. He looked at her, emotions running in his face.
Cathy didn’t speak. She was still trying to process everything he was saying.
“I followed you last night… I saw your face… You looked like you were worried!” His voice trembled. His composure was slipping.
She whispered, almost unsure, “…Mark?”
Mark turned away, jaw clenched tightly. He exhaled, trying to hold himself back in.
“I’m probably going to get kicked out of school,” he said quietly, “because I was worried about you.”
Cathy’s eyes softened. Her expression shifted into guilt. She turned away from him slightly, unable to face him.
“You really… didn’t do anything last night?” Mark asked again, this time calmer—his voice flat, defeated.
Cathy looked back at him. She hesitated.
“…Yeah,” she said quietly. “There’s nothing worth… worrying about.”
Mark’s eyes narrowed, he snapped.
“Nothing worth worrying about… huh?” He stared at her for a second longer.
Without another word, he turned and started walking away.
“Mark!” Cathy called out, rising from her seat.
At the fourth step, he stopped. He didn’t turn around right away. When he finally did, his face was cold.
“I got myself into trouble because I thought… maybe I’d hear your reason. Maybe it would all make sense.” He looked her dead in the eye. “But it was all for nothing…”
Then he walked away. No last glance.
“Kuya Mark… I—” Cathy called out again. It was too late. He was already too far to hear it.
Mark walked out of the gym, jaw tight, holding back the ache in his chest. His fists were clenched, but he didn’t stop.
Cathy remained frozen in place, her heart heavy. Slowly, she sat back down, her eyes low, clouded with guilt and sadness.
As Mark walked away, Louise noticed him from a distance. She raised a brow, curiosity flickering across her face.
A few moments later, Mark exited the school. He furrowed, his pace was intense. Every step was heavy, like he was stomping. He didn’t look around—just kept moving forward, lost in his thoughts.
“There was no reason?”
“I’ve gone through all that… all that, and there’s no reason.”
“But… why?”
“Why was there no reason…”
After a moment, his footsteps began to slow. Realization started to settle in.
“Why did I even chase her?”
“Why do I care so much?”
“Why am I this protective of her?”
“Who is she to me?”
“It’s only been a month since we met… but we became close so quickly. Like we’ve known each other for years.”
“Maybe, because she’s the first friend I've had since… Ryan and Khyle left.”
“Maybe… I don’t want her to… leave…”
At that thought, he stopped, his expression tightening.
“Does she… trust me?”
“Was she hiding a reason… from me?”
“I trusted her, not once I doubted her… but does she think the same for me?”
A memory of Ryan echoed in his mind.
“I didn’t include you guys on the basketball team,”
“You guys don’t take this seriously.”
“Trust? Mark, have you ever done something that is trustworthy?” Louise said, echoed in his mind as he remembered.
He remembered the times he saw her glaring and expressing disappointment at him.
The weight on his shoulders began to press down harder.
Then, out of nowhere, another memory surfaced. Something from years ago.
It was nighttime. He had stepped out of his room, drawn by the muffled sound of his parents in the living room. He stayed hidden, listening.
“Mark is old enough to hear this,” his father had said.
“I know,” his mother replied. “But if he knew where I was going… he wouldn’t take it well.”
Mark had leaned in closer, intrigued and confused.
“Maria, trust the boy. Lying to him will only make things worse.”
“I know… I just don’t want him to worry,” she answered, her voice cracking slightly. “I don’t want him to lose faith in me when I’m away.”
“You’re going to hurt him!” His father snapped.
“I’m doing this for him, Paulo. When he grows up, he’ll understand. It’s just not the right time.”
“You just don’t trust him, Maria. Have faith in your son. Have faith that he’ll understand.”
“I’m sorry… but he mustn’t know. Not yet.”
The memory ended abruptly. Mark blinked, returning to the present. His fists clenched, his expression hardened, but his chest was brimming with emotion.
“…Of course,” he muttered under his breath. “It all makes sense now.”
He looked off into the distance, bitter clarity creeping in.
“They don’t trust me. Not even my own mother…”
His gaze lingered on the horizon, feeling heavy.
“I guess… I understand now.”
A flash of Cathy’s bright grin briefly appeared in his mind. For a moment, his expression softened.
“Maybe it’s better if I stay away from her. She’s just… too good for an asshole like me.”
He looked down as he tried to make sense of the moment. Then, slowly, he started walking again. His pace picked up, steady and driven.
Then, another memory surfaced—those Liamson students.
“If everything that happened last night really had no reason…”
“Then, at least there’s a reason why I should get back at them…”
His eyes narrowed, focused now. He clenched his fists tighter.
This time, he walked with purpose—toward a mission he had just carved for himself.
Time passed…
Lunch break had ended, and the school resumed its exam period. The classroom was again silent, pens flicking and papers rustling. Heads were down, students focused on their test papers, doing their best to answer every blank with confidence—or at least with hope.
From her seat, Cathy glanced over at the empty chair beside her. Mark still hadn’t returned. His exam paper was already laid out on the desk, untouched.
Worry crept into her chest. She stared for a moment before turning back to her own paper, trying to focus. But concern lingered.
Louise, in the front row, casually looked at the back—and noticed Mark’s seat, still vacant. Her brows drew together in mild irritation, but her expression softened into worry. With a small sigh, she returned to her test.
At the front of the room, Sir Armando sat at his desk, his gaze occasionally drifting toward the same empty chair. A concerned sigh was let out, scratching the back of his head, disappointed.
“Catherine,” he called out.
“Yes, sir?” she responded.
“Can you message Mark? Ask him to come back, if possible,” he said, his voice calm and gentle.
“But… my phone’s in front of you,” she pointed out.
Sir Armando leaned forward, glancing at the small collection of confiscated phones on his desk. “Ah… right. My bad,” he chuckled softly. “You can take it.”
Cathy stood up from her chair and made her way to the front.
“Hey, no peeking at your classmates’ answers,” he joked lightly, pointing playfully.
She let out a shy laugh, her posture sheepish as she shook her head.
Once she reached the desk, she picked up her phone and typed a quick message:
Mark, where are you?
Sir Armando is looking for you.
Sir Armando glanced up at her, his face shifting to a more serious tone. “Catherine… what we talked about yesterday,” he reminded her gently.
“Yes, sir,” she answered quietly, her voice anxious.
“It’s alright,” he reassured her, softening his tone. “Don’t worry too much.”
She nodded and turned to return to her seat.
As Cathy walked back, Sir Armando’s voice suddenly rang out again. “Hey! JunJun!”
Louise, overhearing the interaction, furrowed her brow, now more intrigued than before. “What is that guy even doing…” she muttered under her breath.
Back in her seat, Cathy sat and gazed out to the window.
“…Sorry, Kuya Mark,” she whispered softly, eyes distant with concern.
Meanwhile…
At a modest canteen across the street from Liamson High School. Mark, alone at his table with a clear view of the school's entrance, was eating, picking at his meal, eyes locked on the building in front of him like a soldier waiting for the enemy.
Every bite he took felt mechanical, as his attention wasn’t on the food.
A timid voice broke the silence.
“U-uh… w-would you l-like some s-soup?” a meek girl asked, standing hesitantly at the side of his table.
Mark didn’t even glance at her. “No thanks,”
“O-okay…” she replied softly before quickly walking away.
He finished the last bite of his meal, but his eyes never left the school.
Moments later, the front door of the canteen creaked open.
“Sorry I’m late!” a girl’s voice called out.
“You missed most of the customers already,” the chef behind the counter said.
Mark was unfazed, remaining still, locked in his thoughts, unaware of anything around him.
Then, a hand suddenly waved in front of his face, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Kuya… hellooo?” the same voice said playfully.
“Huh—hey!” Mark blinked and looked up.
“Hello, are you finished?” she asked.
Mark stared, trying to place the familiar face. “It’s you…”
The girl tilted her head. “Hey! It’s you!”
“Uhh…”
“Mark, right?”
“Yeah, I’m… Mark,” he said slowly, still piecing it together.
She sat down at the next table. “Hey, nice to finally talk to you. How’ve you been?”
“I’m… fine,” Mark replied, his voice reluctant, eyes narrowing a little.
“That’s good. Hope that judo takedown didn’t leave a mark on you,” she laughed at her own joke.
Mark let out a small, awkward chuckle. “Yeah… I’m alright.” His brows furrowed again.
The girl noticed his shift in expression. “What’s with your face?”
“It’s… nothing.”
“You forgot my name, didn’t you?”
“Yeah! I forgot… your name?”
“…Yeah,” he admitted reluctantly. “I forgot… your name?”
She blinked, a bit caught off guard. “Eh? We’ve talked before and you don’t even remember?”
She sighed dramatically. “It’s Jade. Jade Nicole.”
“Nicole…?” Mark repeated under his breath. Her name sparked a strange sense of familiarity, though he couldn’t quite place it. “Nicole… Lacsamana…” he muttered.
“Huh? No, it’s Jade Nicole Domingo…” she cleared, gently.
“Oh,” he became sheepish. “Must’ve thought of someone else…”
“Yeah! Even I remembered your name, even from our short interaction during the intramurals.” Suddenly, realization hit her, she placed her hand on her chin. “Come to think of it… weird how I remembered yours so easily.”
“Yeah… I guess that makes sense?”
“Maybe I remembered you because of how easily I took you down,” she shrugged, teasing with a smirk.
“Hey!” Mark flushed.
She laughed.
“You did that on purpose!”
“I acted on instinct! Remember?” she shot back, still giggling.
“Instinct? Do you take down everyone who gets close to you?”
“Nope. Just you,” she said smugly.
Mark huffed, rolling his eyes and turning away.
“Hey, don’t be like that. I did say sorry.” She gave him a cheeky grin.
“Yeah, whatever…”
“So,” she leaned in slightly, “why is a Gaviolan eating their way here near Liamsons? Thinking of transferring?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“No reason. Just… finding cheap places to eat.”
She raised a brow. “That far from your school? Really?”
He didn’t answer.
“Oh! Don’t tell me you’ve got a crush on someone from Liamson? Uyyyyy…”
He blushed. “No! That's not it.”
She laughed again.
“Ugh, why do girls always tease guys with crushes…”
She finally stopped laughing. “Then what is it, then?”
“It’s none of your business…” He coldly replied.
She leaned back, arms crossed. “Hey, you're in my canteen. Your business is also my business.”
“What do you mean, your canteen?” the chef behind them interjected.
“I mean your canteen, Mr. Rudy!” Jade responded quickly, sheepish.
Mark looked at her, irritated. “Why do you even care?”
“Because you clearly look troubled,” she said, her tone turning serious. “It’s all over your face.”
“So what? Are you gonna meddle in my business?”
She sighed. “Whatever you’re planning to do… Please, find a better way. You could make things worse.”
Mark was surprised by the sincerity in her voice. But he shot back. “You don’t even know me!”
“No… but your expression says enough,” she replied, gently.
Realizing his guard had slipped, Mark quickly turned his face away, trying to hide it.
“See? If you’re thinking of becoming an actor… take some acting lessons.” Jade said as she stood up and took his plate, carrying it toward the kitchen.
Left alone again, Mark’s eyes drifted back to the school, his expression was more conflicted than before.
“Nah… like it matters. I’m already getting kicked out anyway,” he thought bitterly.
Chef Rudy turned on the TV.
“Breaking news! A surprise earthquake has struck Mindanao!” the reporter announced.
“Damn… what is this world coming to?” the chef muttered.
“The world’s ending,” Jade said flatly from the back.
“Don’t say that!” Chef Rudy scolded.
Mark sat motionless.
“The world’s ending, huh?” he thought to himself. “Then none of this matters anymore…”
“Doesn’t matter if I get expelled… what matters is getting back at them.”
“There’s nothing left to lose anyway…”
Hours Later…
The school day had finally come to an end.
Students and office workers from all corners stepped out of their buildings, their steps blending into the crowd of people heading home to wind down the day. The street before was quiet and had transformed into a buzzing, lively flow of noise and movement. Chatter filled the air, car horns echoed, and the occasional bark of a street vendor cut through it all.
Mark was unmoved since arriving.
He remained at his table, his eyes still locked on the school gate.
His phone on the table buzzed, notifications popping up on the screen.
But Mark was unfazed and didn't even glance at it. His mind was too focused.
Then—he saw them.
The Liamson students finally stepped out of the school gate. There were no signs of remorse and guilt—just laughter and casual teasing among friends. They shoved each other playfully, joking, grinning like nothing ever happened.
Mark’s jaw tightened.
“This is probably my last day as a student… gonna rip those lips out of y’all ugly faces…”
His thoughts were bitter, simmering beneath his calm exterior.
Without a word, Mark quickly stood up, grabbed his phone, and stepped out of the canteen, his eyes never leaving the group across the street.
They walked casually through the crowd, and Mark, blending into the sea of pedestrians, followed, keeping his distance. With the noise of the city, his presence went unnoticed. He became just another face in the moving crowd.
But his attention never wavered.
Every step he took was calculated. Every movement, deliberate. He trailed them with calm and patience.
The group crossed intersections, made jokes, and even stopped to greet a few familiar faces along the way. To the world, they looked like harmless teenagers enjoying their afternoon.
But to Mark, they were anything but.
He continued following from behind cars, slipped between groups of students, and ducked near sidewalk stalls. Occasionally, he’d pretend to check his phone or pause at a vendor, all while keeping them in his line of sight.
Minutes passed.
Still, he followed.
It was now the same hour as when he had followed Cathy through the streets. But today, Mark’s focus was on the group from Liamson as he trailed them at a steady and careful pace, waiting for the right moment.
Eventually, the Liamson students entered a convenience store. The street was quiet, nearly deserted, with a few passersby and the occasional car rolling by.
A perfect place to confront them.
Across the street, Mark crouched at a nearby bus stop. Just two blocks away, the convenience store was in his line of sight. He watched intently, every second stretching thin with anticipation.
His phone vibrated again in his pocket.
He ignored it.
Mark stayed still, his gaze sharp. His breath is calm. Waiting.
Then suddenly—something broke his focus.
A familiar figure entered his sight near the convenience store.
His eyes widened. “Cathy?”
She was walking alone on the sidewalk, glancing left and right like she was searching for someone. Her expression was tense—worried.
Mark’s stomach twisted.
“What are you doing here?” he muttered, instinctively trying to get a better look.
A sudden unease surged inside him. That same feeling from the night before returned. The image of Cathy’s sorrowful face flashed before his eyes, sending a jolt through his spine.
Before he could even think, his body instinctively began to move, driving him to step out from his hiding spot.
But just as he moved, the Liamson students stepped out of the store.
Mark halted mid-step.
He saw both of them—Cathy and the Liamsons—now within the same frame. They were walking in opposite directions but just meters apart, unknowingly closing in on each other.
He froze.
His eyes darted between them.
The timing was too tight. The pressure in Mark grew unbearable.
“Shit…” he whispered through clenched teeth.
His mind spun.
“Should I confront them? I can finally end this…”
“But, why is she here?”
“What if they see her?”
“What if something happens to her?”
He looked at her once more and saw the concern on her face, shoulders tense.
Something inside him snapped.
Mark let out a frustrated growl, clenching his fists tight and grinding his teeth.
The Liamsons, as every moment passed, are moving further away.
His opportunity was slipping away.
But so was Cathy—now walking straight toward the side of the road.
Heart racing, Mark took a breath and finally made his decision.
He stood up from behind the bus stop.
“CATHY!” he shouted across the street.
Cathy froze and quickly turned toward the voice. Her eyes widened in recognition, relieved.
“MARK! HEY!” she called back, waving with a sudden smile breaking through her worried expression.
“I’ll come over there!” Mark called out, waiting for a car to pass before stepping onto the street.
Moments later, the two finally reunited on the sidewalk.
“What are you doing here?!” he asked, clearly alarmed. “Shouldn’t you be home by now?!”
Out of nowhere— smack!
Cathy slapped him across the face.
Mark stumbled back, caught completely off guard. He froze, staring at her wide-eyed, processing what just happened.
“W-What the hell…” he stammered.
Tears welled up in Cathy’s eyes as she glared at him. Her voice cracked with emotion.
“Kuya Mark… you DICKHEAD!!! ”
“Huh?!”
“I should be asking you the same thing!” she shouted.
“What?!”
“I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for your dumbass!” she snapped.
Mark grew defensive. “You’re the dumbass here! Going out to look for me like this—what would your parents say if something happened to you, huh?!”
Smack! She slapped him again.
“HEY!” he yelled, rubbing his cheek.
“I don’t care what my parents think right now!” she cried out. “I only care about you! ”
Mark froze, stunned, cheeks flushing pink. “W-What…?”
Smack! Another slap landed, Mark failed to see it coming.
“Stop doing that!” he shouted, more embarrassed than angry.
“I’m not stopping until you finally learn! ” she yelled back, her voice trembling with emotion.
“Learn what?! What am I supposed to learn?!”
“Stop being such a stubborn baby! ”
Mark stood there, stunned. He didn’t know how to respond.
Cathy softened. “I’m worried about you too, Kuya Mark… I don’t want you to… leave me…”
He turned his face away, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Sh-Shut up…”
“You can’t just walk away from people like that…” she said, little tears slipping down her cheeks, though maintaining her fiery glare. “Especially from your friends…”
Mark peeked at her from the corner of his eye, still avoiding her.
“You… you shouldn’t be looking for me,” he muttered. “You’re too good to be my friend. You don’t deserve to be friends with some untrustworthy asshole like me…”
Her expression hardened.
Without hesitation, she raised her hand for another slap—but this time, Mark managed to dodge it.
“I SAID STOP THAT!” he barked, leaning forward in frustration.
But before he could recover, smack! —Her other hand met his cheek.
He flinched, stunned again.
Cathy looked down, her voice low and breaking. “You… dickhead…”
Suddenly, raindrops began to fall, gradually turning into a downpour.
“Ahh, crap!” Mark groaned.
He and Cathy sprinted toward the nearby bus stop beside the convenience store, barely making it under the roof before getting soaked.
There, they stood side by side in silence, the sound of heavy rain surrounding them like a curtain. Neither spoke for a moment. Only the sound of rain filled the space between them.
Eventually, Cathy broke the silence. “…I’m sorry, Mark,” she said quietly.
Mark glanced at her but didn’t respond.
“It wasn’t right for me to hide things from you,” she continued, her voice tinged with guilt. “Especially since… we’re friends. I should’ve been honest from the start.”
Mark stayed quiet, his expression beginning to shift to reflection.
“It’s just that… I didn’t want you to get caught up in my problems,” she admitted.
Mark turned to her, finally speaking. “But we’re friends, right? Aren’t friends supposed to help each other?”
“Yeah…” Cathy smiled, though faintly. “They should…”
But her smile slowly faded as her eyes dropped.
“…Sometimes there are problems better kept secret—so the friendship doesn’t fall apart.”
Mark shook his head lightly. “That just makes things worse.”
“I know,” Cathy replied softly. “And I’m sorry for that. I was a fool… for not telling you.”
Mark sighed, his features softening as he looked at her. “Well… look where we’re at now.”
He paused, thinking to himself.
“ Maybe, that’s why… people don’t trust me because of me... Maybe they have their reasons…”
“I’m sorry too,” Mark finally said aloud.
She looked up at him, surprised.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier…” he added, exhaling deeply, reluctant but sincere.
“It’s fine, Mark. I understand—”
“No. You need to hear me out.” He cut in gently.
He took a breath, then continued.
“I just… I thought I was done for. When you said you didn’t do anything last night, I felt useless. It was like… like that moment would be the last time I’d ever see you. And I just… lost it.”
Cathy’s expression softened, guilt mixing with sympathy. “Awww…” she murmured, stepping slightly closer.
Mark let out a short, awkward chuckle. “Yeah… embarrassing, right?”
“No,” she said, giving him a warm, genuine smile. “It’s not. I’m just glad… that you’re finally honest.”
Mark looked away, flustered by her reaction. “Could you not smile like that all the time…”
She giggled. “You're such a softie, Mark.”
Rolling his eyes, Mark muttered, “I came out here to beat up some assholes from last night, you know.”
Her smile vanished instantly. “Eh?!”
“Uhh… sorry, could you repeat that? I didn’t hear you right…” Cathy went sheepish, letting out an awkward chuckle.
Mark sighed. “I said—”
“WHAT!!!!” Cathy screamed, cutting Mark off.
“HEY! I didn’t even finish yet!” Mark screamed in response.
“What the hell are you doing?! You could’ve gotten into serious trouble!”
“Yeah, I know! ”
“Then why are you going out to beat up some guys anyways?!”
“It’s a long story…”
“Just tell me!” Both of her fists clenched, prepared to hear him out.
Mark scratched his head. “Last night, when you went out, I followed you. Then I ran into those jerks… and yeah, I beat the crap out of them.”
“Oh…” Cathy replied, processing. Then her eyes widened. “Wait… if you already beat them, why’re you going after them again? ”
Mark hesitated. His casual tone gave way to something heavier. He grabbed his right arm, tense.
“You wonder why I didn’t take the exams earlier?”
“Yeah?”
Mark’s face turned sour. “Because those bastards ruined my reviewer.”
Cathy gasped. “Wait—Louise’s notes?!”
The moment he heard her name, Mark flinched. “Ah, crap… Louise!”
“Oh no…” Cathy echoed. “So that’s why you want to get back at them?”
Mark let out a defeated sigh. “Yeah…”
“I mean… I get it. I’d panic too if I lost Louise’s notes.”
“Please, don’t remind me…”
“But still, do you really think getting revenge is gonna fix things?”
“I thought so…” he muttered. “I figured I’m gonna get kicked out anyway.”
“Are you already assuming that’s gonna happen?”
“Yeah…” He casually replied.
“Mark, you shouldn’t just assume things without actually knowing them.”
“Well, it's obvious my actions have consequences”
“Don’t think stuff like that Mark…”
“Whatever…”
”Anyways… there’s no way I’m letting that happen,” Cathy said firmly. “I’ll help you, Mark. Don’t worry.”
“Er… thanks.”
“But wait—because you also didn’t return for the exam, right?” she asked, thinking aloud.
“Yeah,” he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “That too.”
“Aw, crap… right…” Cathy tapped her chin. “Maybe you can ask Sir Armando for a special exam?”
“What?! Is that even allowed?”
“Duh? Common sense?”
Mark blinked, processing her logic. “I’ve never really asked people for stuff like that…”
Cathy’s brows lifted in surprise. “Mark… don’t ever assume things are done by the first time it happens. There are always second chances, you know…”
Mark’s expression eased. “…Sir Armando said the same thing.”
“See?!” Cathy beamed, raising her hands triumphantly. “I’m sure you’ll get to retake the exam!”
“…Yeah, hopefully,” Mark nodded.
Then, in his mind, he added
“ I hope Louise gives me a second chance too…”
A soft, awkward silence settled over them again. They stood quietly under the shelter of the bus stop, while the rain outside continued to pour, masking the world beyond with its steady, calming rhythm.
“I’m sorry again…” Cathy said softly.
Mark blinked, turning toward her. “Why?”
She bit her lip. “Because it’s my fault you got in this mess…”
“That? No. I got myself into this, not you” he said with a small shrug.
“But if I hadn’t gone out last night, none of this would've happened.”
Mark shook his head. “No… I’m the idiot who picked a fight. I didn’t have to do that. I made the choice.”
Cathy frowned. “Still, it happened because you were worried about me. ”
“No, Cathy. I’m the one who didn’t trust you,” Mark said, meeting her eyes. “That’s why I’m in this mess… and why you’re in it now.”
The tension in the air was still there, lingering between them as the rain fell harder outside. Yet they stood quietly together.
“So, Mark…” Cathy spoke up, breaking the silence between them.
He turned to her. “Yeah?”
“Are you not gonna ask where I was last night?”
“Oh, that?” Mark waved it off. “No, thanks.”
“What?!” Cathy blinked in surprise. “Isn’t that something you’ve been dying to know?”
“Well, yeah… I used to,” he admitted. “But I’ve kinda lost interest now.”
“Why?!”
“I figure you didn’t tell me for a reason. And after what you said earlier, I get it… maybe it’s something heavy or personal.”
He looked at her with a calm, serious expression. “If you’re not ready to talk about it, I won’t force you.”
“B-but—”
“Do you trust me?” Mark asked, his tone firm but gentle, his gaze meeting hers.
Cathy froze for a moment, taken aback by his directness. Her eyes widened a little. “Yeah… I do.”
Mark looked away again, his voice soft. “Then I trust you and your reasons why you don’t wanna share them yet…”
Cathy was about to speak, opened her mouth, but stopped herself. Her eyes lowered, her guilt weighing her down.
“I still care, Cathy. I really do. “I still care, Cathy. A lot,” Mark continued. “But I don’t wanna force you to do something you’re not ready for.”
Her eyes shimmered, his words sinking in. Her face softened as her mood lifted. Slowly, she looked forward, joining him in watching the rain fall.
Silence returned between them, but it felt lighter this time.
“Okay,” she said with a warm smile. “I trust you too, Mark… Thank you.”
Mark gave a quiet nod, not saying a word, but the small smile on his lips said enough.
As he watched the raindrops, a flicker of familiarity stirred in his mind.
“This feels kinda nostalgic…” he murmured in his mind.
He turned to her. “I feel like… this happened before.”
Cathy smiled faintly, still looking out at the rain.
As they stood together, he suddenly reached out—gently placing his hand on her back. Then, without warning…
He shoved her out into the rain.
Cathy stumbled a step forward into the downpour. She froze, completely stunned.
Mark smiled, a fond, almost amused look on his face. “I remember… She liked the rain.”
That smile quickly faded as Cathy stepped right back into the shelter, dripping wet and glaring at him.
“WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!” she shrieked.
Mark blinked, confused. “What?!”
“You shoved me into the rain!!”
“I… I thought you liked it?”
“Where did you even get that idea?!”
Mark scratched his head, expression deadpan. “Wait…I thought you’re a… plu-vlu— plu-vi-bloo—”
“You mean a pluviophile ?!” Cathy huffed, folding her arms. “No! I’m not one! You got me soaked!”
“Oh…” Mark looked sheepish. “I must’ve misremembered…”
Cathy pouted and looked away. “So much for trusting you…”
He sighed. “Sorry… I was trying to be sweet.”
“…What time is it anyway?” Mark asked.
As the evening went on, the two stood together under the bus stop, waiting for the rain to stop.
SAMANTHA THE ROCK:
“I wanna be… A pro-wrestler…”
On the screen, Rock Jackson charged against his opponent with intense speed. The crowd erupted as Rock Jackson barreled into his opponent with a thunderous tackle, knocking him down. The whole arena roared in awe as Rock Jackson raised his arms, hyping up the arena. His opponent struggled to get back up, dazed like he'd been hit by a heavy eight wheeler.
The momentum raised as Rock Jackson held his opponent by the shoulders, locking in his signature move. The crowd screamed in anticipation.
But his opponent resisted—swinging, flailing, trying to escape.
Rock stood his ground, fueled by the adrenaline, holding his grip further to his opponent. Each blow landed, but he didn’t flinch. The struggle only ignited the crowd more.
And then—BAM!
“ROCK SMASH!!!” the announcer shouted as Jackson lifted his opponent into the air and slammed him down in a camera-flashing finish.
Samantha stared at the screen, eyes wide and sparkling.
“He’s so strong…” she whispered in awe. “I wanna be as strong as him…”
Samantha, wearing an oversized tracksuit, jogged awkwardly down the sidewalk at dawn. Her movements were… unique. She flailed like someone who hadn't figured out how arms and legs were supposed to sync. Eyes half-shut, legs wobbling, it was more chaos than cardio.
“I pushed myself every morning, every day…”
Samantha, hesitant yet determined, is in her loose tracksuit, jogging awkwardly down the sidewalk in the morning. Her movements were… odd, as she forced her physically incapable body to handle the intensity she was going through from her jogging. She kept pushing herself, demanding her body to further her capabilities. Every time she felt like slowing down, she punished herself by elongating her steps.
She ran, waggling and moving like she’s on fire. Her eyes are not even properly adjusted as she just moves without seeing what’s in front of her.
People around her noticed her running.
“Oh, gosh, what’s wrong with her…”
“She looks like a weirdo…”
“Holy crap, a Titan!”
“Mama, why is she like that?”
The moment she heard the whispers, Samantha’s flailing transformed into perfect Olympic-form running. Sprinting like a pro, but her face was red, embarrassed.
At a distance, she twitched, emotionally destroyed. “OH MY GOD, THAT WAS SO EMBARRASSING!!!” she screamed inside.
“That’s why I work out. So I can build the strength… to shield myself from the noise.”
In the park, she dropped into squats like a machine. Her pace was relentless—squat after squat, pushing herself harder and faster.
Her face showed pure agony. Gritted teeth, clenched fists, wide eyes—she looked like she was trying to squeeze a boulder out of existence.
With every squat, monstrous groans escaped her lips, drawing even more attention.
The people at the park noticed it.
“Oh, gosh, what’s wrong with her…”
“She looks like a weirdo…”
“Holy crap, a Titan!”
“Mama, why is she like that?”
Inside, she was shriveling. “SOMEBODY HELP MEEE…” she wailed in her mind, continuing to squat like her life depended on it.
“Maybe… if I prove I’m strong enough, people will finally see me as a main event superstar.”
At the arcade, she stood before the punching bag machine. Her eyes burned with determination.
She exhaled, raised her fist… and punched.
The machine buzzed. She clasped her hands in anticipation.
SCORE: 2244
Her jaw dropped, shocked by the score. “So low…”
But she didn’t give up. She wound up and punched again.
SCORE: 4782
“Hey, that’s an improvement…”
She gave another punch.
SCORE: 5100
She smiled, her mood went up.
As time went on, again. Each strike gets stronger, each number climbing higher. Sweat beaded down her face. Her arms trembled from fatigue, but she kept going.
Her face slowly twisted into a terrifying display of effort. Veins popped, eyes bloodshot, teeth clenched—like a warrior mid-battle.
People stared.
“Oh, gosh, what’s wrong with her…”
“She looks like a weirdo…”
“Holy crap, a Titan!”
“Mama, why is she like that?”
Her mind screamed:
“WHY DO THEY KEEP SAYING THE SAME THING!?!?!”