The front door burst open, and Altair and Cassy stepped into the sanctuary of their home, each wearing expressions that spoke volumes about the emotional rollercoaster they'd just disembarked from. As they made their way into the lounge, they were met with a battery of wide eyes, as if they were celebrities coming back from the Oscars red carpet. Allaine, Mikayla, Theresa, and Priscilla sat in a semi-circle, practically vibrating with anticipation for the behind-the-scenes scoop on what promised to be an explosive family dinner.
 
Altair sank into the cozy embrace of the couch, plopping himself down beside Theresa. Cassy took her place next to Mikayla, who immediately enveloped her in a warm, comforting hug.
 
"So, give us the details!" Allaine broke the silence, her eyes almost sparkling with curiosity.
 
Cassy exhaled deeply, a look of relief washing over her face. "It was like walking on a tightrope above a pit of vipers. I have never been happier to be back in safe territory."
 
Altair, ever the maverick, decided to take a lighter approach. "Eh, it went fine. I'm bummed I didn't get to try their ice cream."
 
"Ice cream? Are you kidding me? With the tension thick enough to cut with a knife, you're regretting missing out on dessert." Mikayla exclaimed, disbelief coloring her tone.
 
"Hey, don't knock it till you've tried it. The ice cream at that place is basically ambrosia," Altair said, defending his choice of post-drama lament.
 
Cassy jumped in, siding with Altair. "He has a point, you know. The man could make a case for cardboard if he tried, let alone ice cream."
 
Allaine, no longer able to contain her excitement, interjected. "Hold on, can we get past the dairy discussion and dive into what actually went down?"
 
Cassy chuckled. "Okay, so just before we left, Carlos pulled Altair aside to swap contact information. And then Altair, in the most cinematic way possible, tells Carlos, " She paused to get her Altair-imitation just right: "'Don't go digging too deep, or you might not like what you find.'" 
 
"Is that cringe-worthy or absolutely badass? I can't tell, but I need to witness it firsthand," Theresa remarked, still chuckling.
 
"Oh, it's definitely badass. But let me tell you, Altair's assistant, Chloe, was just as epic. She warned my parents—get this—" Cassy paused, nailing her Chloe imitation, "'Consider Your Positions Very Carefully.'" 
 
The room cracked up again, doubling over in laughter.
 
"Damn, Cassy, you've got us both down pat!" Altair exclaimed, clearly impressed.
 
As Cassy continued recounting the rollercoaster dinner, the room's atmosphere lightened. The stress and tension from earlier seemed to evaporate, replaced by laughter and camaraderie.
 
Fast-forward to 2 hours later, after Altair's refreshing bath 
 
Altair sat in the gazebo with Theresa, appearing decidedly more relaxed than he had earlier. Dressed in a simple white tee and gray pajama bottoms, his signature gray hoodie lay folded beside him.
 
Across from him, Theresa looked effortlessly elegant in a beige summer dress that harmonized perfectly with the soft glow of the gazebo's fairy lights. The dress added an ethereal touch, encapsulating her aura of ease and grace.
 
"So, how was it really?" Theresa probed. 
 
Altair took a measured drag from his cigarette.
 
"To be honest, we're just getting started. This battle's far from over," he admitted.
 
Theresa switched seats to sit beside him. "You're not alone in this, you know. We'll find a way through it," she consoled.
 
"Thanks, Theresa. But the harsh reality is, there won't be an ultimate resolution until we've thoroughly worn down Cassy's family, especially Carlos," Altair responded, a note of solemnity creeping into his voice.
 
"It sounds emotionally draining," Theresa observed.
 
Altair and Theresa each took a long, contemplative drag from their cigarettes.
 
"Oh, it is," Altair confirmed. "The constant need to be on guard, the calculating, the mind games It's like performing a never-ending, high-stakes dance. But I need to defend Cassy. I have no other choice."
 
Theresa looked at him, her eyes reflecting understanding and warmth. "Why? What's fueling you, even when it's this taxing?"
 
"To be brutally honest? I don't really know. But there's something inside me that won't let me back down, that pushes me to defend her and fight for her. And when something feels this viscerally right, you don't question it. You just go with it," Altair said, sincerity coloring his words.
 
"I was going to give you a pep talk, but seeing as this is your first victory, I'll spare you for now," Theresa said, the corners of her mouth lifting into a tender smile. She took a cigarette, placed it between Altair's lips, and lit it for him.
Inside her bedroom, Cassy sat on the edge of her bed, her body a live wire of emotion and adrenaline. Her palms were clammy, her heart pounding in her chest as though she were sprinting—except she was at a standstill, frozen in a moment of sheer intensity. This was no mere game, no passing skirmish; this was her life, her raw emotions, and her unwritten future, all hanging in the balance.
 
Beside her, the phone lay dormant, its screen cutting through the darkened room like a beacon. There, displayed in digital clarity, was the message she had sent just two minutes ago. Her finger hovered over the "unsend" button, trembling as though it bore the weight of her world.
 
Her mind was a cacophony of conflicting thoughts. Should she unsend the message? Could she face the seismic shift that uttering those simple words would undoubtedly cause? Time seemed to stretch, each tick of the clock elongating into an eternity as she found herself entangled in a web of indecision.
 
Suddenly, she became hyper-aware of the room's stillness, as if the air had thickened, becoming almost stifling. Her emotions had been a powder keg for days, volatile and ready to ignite. She had been skirting the edge of something immense, something so real that it felt almost tangible.
 
Recalling how easily she'd told Altair she loved him during the dinner, it struck her. Wasn't that what love was—feeling free, feeling alive, feeling like the most authentic version of yourself? Or was she just a damsel in distress, so caught up in the tempest of recent events that she'd lost any sense of what was genuine?
 
"Am I just mistaking gratitude for love?" she wondered, her thoughts steeped in uncertainty. "Is what I'm feeling truly organic, or is it just some knee-jerk emotional reaction to all the chaos?"
 
At that pivotal moment, her eyes drifted back to the screen. The message read, "I think I'm in love." It sat there, untouched and unread, a digital testament to her raw vulnerability. Then, with a racing heart and a sigh that felt like surrender, she hit "unsend."
 
Her fingers swiftly replaced the message with two simple words: "Good night!"
 
The next day, After Cassy sent Her Message 
 
Cassy's phone alarm rang out its usual jingle, jolting her from her uneasy slumber. She let out a low groan, rolling over to the edge of her bed to finally silence that incessant machine. It's Monday morning, not that it matters. She had no pressing engagements today. Her head throbbed, a not-so-gentle reminder of the emotional rollercoaster she'd ridden the previous day.
 
Pushing herself up, she tidied up and tossed on some casual clothes. Her eyes fell on her phone, still lying there on the nightstand. For a brief second, her hand wavered, tempted to pick it up. But she remembered the message—unsent, yet etched in her memory—and decided against it. No impulsive selfies today. 
 
Stepping out of her room, the sound of lively chatter drifted toward her. The noise came from the lounge. She walked out, her curiosity piqued. There in the lounge were Allaine, Altair, and Theresa, all engrossed in conversation. 
 
As if sensing her presence, Altair swiveled around to catch her eye. "Hey, morning beauty!" he greeted with his usual radiant smile, one that Cassy found perpetually disarming. 
 
"Stop, you!" she retorted, a playful tone making her words less harsh than they might have seemed. 
 
"What's all the commotion about? You guys are surprisingly animated for a Monday morning," Cassy inquired, folding her arms but leaning in, intrigued. 
 
"Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep. Altair and Theresa are gearing up for a game," Allaine said, looking apologetically toward Cassy. 
 
"Intriguing," Cassy muttered. Still, her morning routine beckoned. She made her way to the kitchen bar to fire up the coffee machine. Everyone's favorite blends, coming up. 
 
"What kind of game are we talking about here?" she called out, sneaking a glance back at Altair and Theresa, who seemed to be locked in some sort of mutual gaze. 
 
"A compatibility game. Just a bit of fun, nothing to worry about," Allaine assured her. 
 
Worry or curiosity? Cassy couldn't decide which should dominate her emotions at that moment. Regardless, she slid into the seat next to Altair, garnering approving smiles from Theresa and Allaine. 
 
"So, remember the rules? Three rounds, and one disagreement means you're not compatible," Theresa recited, getting a nod of acknowledgment from Altair. 
 
Cassy, still puzzled, watched intently. 
 
"First date?" Theresa started off. 
 
"Library," Altair shot back instantly. 
 
"Coffee shop," Theresa countered. 
 
"Coffee shop but make it exotic—out of town," Altair revised. 
 
"Done," Theresa agreed, grinning. 
 
"Nice warm-up. Ready for the real rounds?" Theresa teased. 
 
"Wait, what exactly is going on here? How does this game work?" Cassy finally burst out, unable to contain her curiosity any longer. 
 
Allaine stepped in to explain. "It's inspired by a scene from Newsradio. Altair and Theresa will throw out topics, and they have three tries to come to an agreement or compromise. If they hit a snag on just one topic, they're deemed incompatible." 
 
Ah, Cassy thought, finally understanding the rules. She leaned back, but her eyes remained glued to the unfolding game. 
 
"Wedding location?" Theresa tossed out, her eyes twinkling. 
 
"Beach," Altair answered without hesitation. 
 
"Church?" Theresa countered, eyebrows raised. 
 
"Garden," Altair volleyed back. 
 
"Done," Theresa agreed, grinning. 
 
"Kids?" Altair threw in. 
 
"One," Theresa was quick to reply. 
 
"Two," Altair suggested. 
 
"Done," Theresa acquiesced, chuckling. 
 
"Honeymoon?" Theresa shot back. 
 
"Maldives," Altair was quick to respond. 
 
"Japan," Theresa shot back. 
 
"Netherlands," Altair suggested, with a sly grin. 
 
"Done," Theresa laughed, nodding her head. 
 
"House?" Altair queried. 
 
"Full-fledged house, somewhere in Metro Manila," Theresa offered. 
 
"A two-bedroom condo?" Altair considered. 
 
"Two-bedroom, loft-style condo for our second and third years of marriage. Then a house?" Theresa refined. 
 
"Done," Altair agreed, nodding his head. 
 
"Sex?" Theresa brazenly asked. 
 
"Consensual, of course," Altair clarified. 
 
"Semi-consensual, but at least once a day," Theresa proposed. 
 
"Let's spice it up. Themes, and we alternate on who decides," Theresa revised. 
 
"Done," Altair nodded, amused. 
 
"Phew! You're really something," Theresa exclaimed, leaning back in her chair. "But I'm afraid the position's not open yet, so consider yourself shortlisted for now." 
 
Cassy felt her irritation brewing like the coffee she just poured. "You all realize it's a Monday, right? Don't you have jobs to go to?" she prodded, clearly annoyed. 
 
Theresa groaned, "You're such a buzzkill, Cassy." 
 
They returned to their seats, each cradling a cup of coffee. The morning had an inexplicable electric feel, like the air was thick with something more potent than caffeine. 
 
"So, Cassy, what about you? Don't you have classes today?" Allaine inquired, blowing on her coffee to cool it down. 
 
Cassy smirked, took a sip of her own coffee, and casually leaned against Altair's shoulder, sending a jolt through him that was probably more awakening than the caffeine. "I'm free as a bird today. No activities," she replied. 
 
Theresa raised an eyebrow. "Was that show of force really necessary, Cassy?" 
 
They all burst into laughter, while Altair seemed to still be processing the sudden bodily contact. 
 
"Oh, by the way, Alty, I've been meaning to ask you out today," Cassy casually dropped the bombshell. 
 
Heads turned. All three of them looked shocked, none more so than Altair, who seemed to snap out of his temporary paralysis. "Me? Like, where?" he finally managed to stammer. 
 
Cassy grinned. "Well, we're technically in a play, right? So I figured we could go out to improve our 'theatrics.'" 
 
Altair scratched his head, clearly intrigued. "Uh, sure. I'm free today. Where to?" 
 
Allaine interjected, "A date? That's cute. But was the dramatic show of force really needed?" 
 
With a sweet yet threatening smile, Cassy declared, "Oh, it was necessary. Very necessary." 
 
Laughter filled the room again. 
 
"So, how about a library?" Cassy offered, steering the conversation back to their outing. 
 
Altair contemplated the suggestion, then finally asked, "Can we stop for coffee first?" 
 
Cassy chuckled incredulously, "You just had coffee!" 
 
"Okay, let me school you on the art of adulting, Cassy. What we just had was 'Good Morning Coffee.' What Altair's talking about is 'Productivity Coffee,'" Theresa chimed in, imparting her caffeine wisdom. 
 
Allaine, ever the problem-solver, added, "And for that, I know just the place. A coffee shop and library hybrid, right in the heart of BGC. I'll shoot you the location." 
 
And with that, the morning crew disbanded. Theresa left for work, as did Allaine. Cassy retreated to her room to clean up and get ready for the day that lay ahead. 
 
When they re-emerged hours later, Altair had transformed. He looked freshly showered, decked out in a crisp white polo shirt and gray slacks. His hair was neatly combed, a seamless blend of formal and casual. But when he saw Cassy, he froze. She was a vision in a brown midi dress, accentuated by a ribbon on her right side. Her cute, short hair was styled with soft curls at the ends and adorned with a chic hair clip on the left. She wore nude-colored doll shoes, completing a look that screamed a mix of innocence, cuteness, and poise. 
 
"Jesus Christ, am I dead?" Altair mumbled, momentarily questioning the nature of his existence. 
 
Time seemed to slow down for him. Cassy noticed his dazed expression. "Are you okay, Alty?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern. 
 
Snapped back to reality—by a reality that included Cassy's almost surreal beauty—Altair stammered, "Ah, yes! Shall we?" 
 
Without a word, Cassy looped her arm through his and they walked out together, Altair floating in a state of ecstatic trance. The blazing sun and hot pavement beneath his feet meant nothing to him. As they walked, a thought crossed his mind: "I've been on dates before; is it supposed to feel like this?" 
 
And then their ride pulled up. They settled into the back seat, the air between them thick with the promise of the day ahead. 
 
"Um, Alty?" Cassy's voice was soft, a little hesitant, as she broke the comfortable silence between them. 
 
"Hey, what's up? You okay?" Altair asked, concern edging into his tone. 
 
Cassy hesitated before diving into unexpected territory. "I just wanted to apologize if I've put you in an awkward situation, and also to thank you. Not just for helping me with all the chaos lately, but also for giving me your time. You've been... incredible." The sudden turn toward the melodramatic made Altair look her way, his eyebrows lifting slightly in surprise. 
 
Altair paused and turned toward her, momentarily unsure how to respond to the emotional weight she'd suddenly laid on the table. "Hey, there's no need to apologize, really. I've told you before, I'm here to help you out, just like you would for me." He hesitated, sensing the gravity of what he was about to say, "We all want you to succeed, Cassy, not just me. Everyone's rooting for you." 
 
Feeling the emotional load lighten at his words, Cassy leaned her head on Altair's shoulder. "Can I stay like this for a while?" she asked softly, almost as if she were afraid the moment would shatter. 
 
Altair looked down at her, her head a comfortable weight on his shoulder, and nodded. "Of course, you can." 
 
And so she did, resting her head against his strong arm as the car glided effortlessly through the busy streets, both of them wrapped up in their thoughts and the comforting nearness of each other. 
 
Transition to Theresa's Office 
 
The camera, if one were filming the events of the day, would cut from the warmth and casual intimacy of the car ride to a starkly contrasting scene—a high-powered office filled with the hum of computers and the soft rustling of paper. 
 
Seated at her modern, immaculately organized desk, Theresa was meticulously reviewing a stack of legal documents. Across from her, Mildred was half-heartedly scrolling through her computer, barely disguising her boredom. 
 
Mildred finally broke the silence, "You're unusually focused today, Tere. What's on your mind?" 
 
"Nothing much, just these papers," Theresa replied, maintaining her stoic expression. 
 
Mildred shot her a knowing look. "Cut the crap, Tere. You can breeze through these documents even if you were half asleep. Spill the tea, queen." 
 
Theresa sighed. "Alright, fine. There's a guy." 
 
Instantly, Mildred sprang into action—leaping up to close and lock the door as if they were about to discuss national secrets. "Is it a Code Red?" she asked, standing guard by the door. 
 
"Relax, this isn't some espionage thriller. I'm just interested in someone," Theresa clarified, rolling her eyes. 
 
Mildred sat back down, but her eyes were now like saucers. "I can't believe you, of all people, are saying this. So what's the hold-up? You're a catch; you could sweep this guy off his feet today if you wanted." 
 
"That's just it. We connect so well it's surreal," Theresa paused, "and it's scaring me how emotionally invested I'm becoming." 
 
Mildred was now fully alarmed. She stood up again and double-checked the locks on the door. "Okay, this is DEFINITELY a Code Red situation." 
 
"Why are you freaking out?" Theresa asked, somewhat amused but also puzzled. 
 
"You never get emotionally invested. That's like your 'thing.' Is the guy not into you or something?" Mildred probed, the concern unmistakable in her voice. 
 
Theresa took off the tie holding her hair, letting her locks fall freely. She ran her fingers through it as if the action would help her sort her thoughts. "Oh, he's into me alright. But there's also some competition." 
 
Mildred's eyes narrowed. "Competition? Theresa, you're a goddess. You can take her out easily. What does she even look like?" 
 
Theresa sighed, her voice tinged with a rare vulnerability. "Ever seen an angel?".