The night was calm, the moon casting a soft glow over the house. Theresa, clad in a sheer sleeping gown, found herself drawn to the gazebo. She had noticed Altair stepping out of the house, a cigarette in hand, and heading towards the gazebo. Seeing an opportunity, she picked up her own pack of cigarettes and followed him, feigning ignorance of his presence. 
"Oh shoot! I forgot my lighter," she exclaimed, feigning frustration. 
From the shadows of the gazebo, Altair's voice emerged. "I have a lighter here," he offered. 
Theresa feigned surprise, turning towards the gazebo with a gasp. "Oh! You're there! You scared me there!" she said, her voice filled with feigned shock. 
She stepped into the gazebo, accepting the lighter from Altair's outstretched hand. She took a seat, her gown billowing around her. The moonlight filtered through the thin fabric, casting a silhouette of her figure. It was a sight that would have made any man's heart race, but Altair seemed impervious to it. He simply sat there; his gaze fixed on the flickering flame of his cigarette. 
Theresa felt a surge of annoyance. She was used to men fawning over her, their eyes lingering on her curves. But Altair was different. He seemed completely uninterested, his attention focused elsewhere. It was a blow to her ego, and she found herself engaging in a mental conversation. 
Theresa 1: Did you see that? 
Theresa 2: Yeah! He just ignored us! Most guys would panic if they saw us like this! Theresa 1: He's lucky he got to see us like this! Not even the girls have seen this before! And this setting is almost romantic! How could he?  
Theresa 2: The gall on this guy! 
Her internal monologue was interrupted by Altair waving his hand in front of her face. "Hello! Are you okay?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. 
Theresa snapped back to reality, a sheepish smile on her face. "Oh yeah! Sorry! I just spaced out," she said, trying to play it off. 
Altair raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Are you sure? You looked like you were crucifying and burning me at the stake in the back of your mind," he said. 
Theresa laughed, shaking her head. "Oh no! Don't mind me!" she said, lighting her cigarette and taking a long drag. 
She then introduced herself, "I know it's a bit late but I welcome you to the house, my name is Theresa. I'm a bank branch manager." 
Altair nodded, taking a drag from his own cigarette. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Theresa. Altair Mirales, used to be a financial consultant with 37 clients." 
Theresa was impressed. "Impressive. But when you say financial consultant, do you mean you sell insurance?" she asked, trying to gauge his reaction. 
Altair shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "No, they are called Insurance Agents. My job is much more complicated. I have both CFP (Certified Financial Planner) and CFA (Chartered Financial Analyst) certificates. I help people manage their finances by investing, planning for retirement, estate planning, tax law, and many more. Did I say was? I definitely said was." 
Theresa grinned, intrigued by his response. In her experience, a man who mansplains is usually trying to impress. But was that the case with Altair? She decided to put it to the test. 
"Interesting," Theresa mused, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied Altair. "Do you agree that insurance agents should be called Financial Advisors as well? Since they receive adequate training?" 
In her mind, Theresa was already formulating a response based on Altair's answer. If he said yes, then he was a bit weaker than she had anticipated, easily swayed by a woman’s suggestion. If he said no, then perhaps his ego was bruised by being compared to an insurance agent. Either way, his answer would be telling. 
Altair took a moment to consider her question, his gaze focused on the burning end of his cigarette. "Yes and no," he finally said, his voice steady. "Being a financial advisor requires more training than being able to sell a product. It requires a deep understanding of how money and the economy works, the spending habits of your client, and the end goals of your client." 
He paused, taking a drag from his cigarette before continuing. "For example, if I asked you to invest my money into the S&P 500 now, how much do you think I would earn in the future? Or if I showed you a portfolio chart, would you be able to provide an analysis on what's happening? In summary, being a financial advisor in title should be based on your knowledge of money and how it works." 
Theresa was taken aback by his response. She had been expecting a simple yes or no, but instead, he had given her a nuanced answer that showed his understanding of the industry. It was clear that he took his profession seriously, and that he had a certain level of pride in his work. 
"Sorry, instinct," Altair apologized, noticing Theresa's surprised expression. 
Theresa quickly recovered, a small smile playing on her lips. "He's not mansplaining, it's just his trade, with a hint of pride, I guess? He was a bit defensive, does it come with the craft?" She mused to herself, intrigued by this new side of Altair. 
"Impressive background and yes, you are correct," she finally said, her tone genuine. "Being called a financial advisor encompasses more skills than just being able to sell a product." 
"Nice to meet you, Altair," Theresa said, her tone warm. "As I mentioned earlier, my name is Maria Theresa Graciousness Santillan. I'm 27 years old and I'm a bank branch manager. People usually call me Theresa, but some also call me Ma, Therese, or Gracey for some odd reason." 
Altair nodded in acknowledgment. "Altair Mirales," he introduced himself again. "People usually call me Alt or Alty. Elise, on the other hand, prefers to call me babe. I'm 25." 
Theresa continued, her voice taking on a softer tone as she spoke about the next housemate. "The one who cooked for you is Cassandra Lexi Mendoza. We usually call her Cassy. She's 19 years old and the sweetest thing in this house. But don't let her sweetness fool you. She's diligent and hardworking." 
Theresa's demeanor changed slightly as she added, "If you're thinking she can be easily manipulated, or she's easy, I'm warning you now, you'll have to go through us first." 
Altair held up his hands in a placating gesture. "You don't have to worry about that," he reassured her. 
"Good to know," Theresa said, her tone easing. "I don't know if you've met her already, but one of the girls is Princess Mikayla Graciella. Her pretty name matches her face. She's 24 years old and a social media influencer." 
Altair nodded, taking in the information. "I think I've seen her around," he said. "She's the one with the vibrant hair, right?" 
Theresa laughed. "Yes, that's her. Mikayla is quite the character. She's always full of energy and has a knack for making people smile." 
"Then we have Priscilla Gemini Laudez," Theresa continued. "We call her Pris, Priscille, or Gem sometimes. She's a digital artist and a manga artist at the same time." 
Altair raised an eyebrow. "A manga artist? That's interesting. I've always admired people who can draw." 
Theresa smiled. "Yes, Pris is incredibly talented. She's always working on some project or another." 
"Lastly, we have Allaine Milana. At the age of 25, she already owns her construction firm. Despite the nature of her business, she's the most girly among us all." 
Altair chuckled. "A girly construction firm owner? Now that's something you don't hear every day." 
Theresa laughed. "Yes, Allaine is full of surprises. But she's also one of the most hardworking people I know." 
Altair nodded, taking in all the information. "It's nice to meet everyone. Don't worry, I intend to stay in my room most of the time and mind my own business." 
Theresa gave him a reassuring smile. "We're all pretty laid back here, Altair. Just make yourself at home." 
Theresa, emboldened by the night and the intimacy of their conversation, decided to ask the question that had been nagging at her. "If you don't mind, you don't have to answer my question, but what happened to you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. 
Altair seemed taken aback by her question, but he didn't shy away from it. "Have somebody told you, you were boring, so they decided to reveal that they cheated on you right after you proposed?" he asked, his voice laced with a bitter edge. 
Theresa was stunned into silence. The words hung in the air between them, heavy and suffocating. She had never considered that rejection could be so brutal, so devastating. She had always been the one in control, the one who dictated the pace of the relationship. But Altair's words painted a picture of a different kind of relationship, one where the power dynamics were skewed and the pain was all too real. 
"But there's plenty of fish in the sea," she found herself saying, her voice sounding hollow even to her own ears. 
Altair let out a humorless laugh. "I don't know if you could say that if all of your hopes, aspirations, dreams, and surprisingly yourself orbits around that person," he said, his voice heavy with sadness. 
"But is it worth doing this to yourself?" Theresa asked, her voice barely a whisper. 
Altair looked at her, his eyes filled with a pain so raw it took her breath away. "I do understand that what I do is destructive, it is not helpful, I know I am setting up myself to a disastrous future. But the pain that I feel right now, isn't this valid?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 
Theresa was at a loss for words. She had never been in a relationship, let alone experienced a heartbreak as profound as Altair's. She was always the one in control, the one who dictated the pace of the conversation. But now, she found herself cornered, her usual confidence replaced with uncertainty. 
"I wish that I don't feel this way, I wish I had more fight in me, but it's not the case, I wish that replacing her is easier said than done. What I have done, accomplished, strived for is all because I want to give us a nice future. She took everything from me, my dreams, my hopes, and me... myself," Altair said, his voice filled with a sadness so profound it made Theresa's heart ache. 
Altair looked at her, his eyes reflecting a depth of pain that made her heart clench. "That's easy for you to say," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're not the one who's been left behind. You're not the one who's been made to feel worthless." 
Theresa felt a pang of sympathy for him. She had never experienced such profound heartbreak, never felt the kind of pain that Altair was describing. But she was a realist, and she knew that life was full of ups and downs. "But you can't let this break you, Altair," she said, her voice firm. "You have to pick yourself up and move on." 
Altair gave her a bitter smile. "And what if I can't?" he asked. "What if I'm too broken to be fixed?" 
Theresa felt a chill run down her spine. She had never been confronted with such raw pessimism before. She was used to being in control, used to being the one who had all the answers. But in the face of Altair's despair, she felt powerless. 
"Then you try again," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "You keep trying until you can." 
Altair looked at her, his gaze piercing. "And what if I don't want to?" he asked. "What if I just want to wallow in my misery?" 
Theresa was taken aback. She had never met someone so determined to stay in their pain, so resistant to the idea of moving on. She felt a knot in her stomach, a sense of unease that she couldn't shake off. She was out of her depth, and she knew it. All she could do was sit there, offering him her silent support and understanding. 
As she sat there, listening to Altair pour his heart out, Theresa realized that she was out of her depth. She was a realist, always looking at things from a practical perspective. But Altair was a pessimist, his world view tainted by the pain of his past. She didn't know how to comfort him, didn't know what to say to make him feel better. All she could do was sit there, offering him her silent support and understanding. 
Altair continued, his voice barely a whisper as he read from the worn pages of his diary. His words hung heavy in the air, each syllable echoing with the raw pain of his heartbreak. 
"True love reveals itself tearing us apart Leaving naught but remnants of a shattered heart It consumes our dreams, our very being Leaving us adrift, lost and unseeing" 
Theresa sat in stunned silence, the weight of Altair's words pressing down on her. She had never heard such raw emotion, such profound sadness. It was as if Altair was baring his soul to her, revealing a depth of pain she had never imagined. 
"you've never known true love If it fails to fracture and tear your heart For in its wake, it leaves a haunting trace A constant presence in very waking space" 
Altair closed his diary, his gaze distant. "That's what true love feels like," he said, his voice hollow. "It's a pain that never goes away, a wound that never heals." 
Theresa didn't know what to say. She had never experienced such profound heartbreak, never felt the kind of pain that Altair was describing. All she could do was sit there, offering him her silent support and understanding. 
Theresa sat there, the silence between them stretching out into the night. The flickering light from the gazebo cast long shadows, painting a picture of solitude that mirrored the emptiness in Altair's words.
She felt a pang of guilt for her earlier presumptions, realizing that she had no right to judge or advise him. She was a bystander, an observer to his pain, not a participant. 
"I... I'm sorry, Altair," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to pry. I didn't realize... I didn't understand." 
Altair looked at her, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. "It's okay," he said, his voice soft. "You couldn't have known. I didn't want you to know." 
Theresa felt a lump forming in her throat. She had always been the strong one, the one who had all the answers. But in that moment, she felt utterly helpless. She wanted to reach out, to comfort him, but she didn't know how. She didn't know what to say, what to do. 
Altair gave her a small, sad smile. "I appreciate the sentiment, Theresa," he said. "But this is something I have to deal with on my own." 
Theresa nodded, understanding. She had always been independent, always believed in handling her own problems. But she also knew the value of having someone to lean on, someone to share your burdens with. And she realized that Altair didn't have that. He was alone, dealing with his pain in solitude. 
"I understand," she said, her voice filled with empathy. "But if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here. We're all here. You're not alone, Altair." 
Altair looked at her, his eyes softening. "Thank you, Theresa," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "That means a lot." 
Theresa gave him a small smile, feeling a sense of relief. She didn't know if she had said the right things, didn't know if she had helped at all. But she hoped that she had, even if just a little. 
As the night wore on, they sat there in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The moon hung high in the sky, casting a soft glow over the gazebo. And for the first time in a long time, Altair didn't feel quite so alone.