Chapter 13

Heion, get a grip. He shakes his head and turns his heels. Maybe things would be clearer in the morning, and if he were lucky, maybe he'd forget everything by then.

No one wants to remember a story as painful as that.

In this rain, he surmises that it would probably take him half an hour to get out of the airport grounds. He start to make his way through the familiar corridors, trying to shake off the full ache in his chest.

The white, sterile walls of NAIA close in on him as he runs his fingers over its stainless steel handrails. He looks at the wide expanse of fluorescent lights over him and feels that everything has shifted. The walls around him are no longer welcoming, the hum around him became unfamiliar.

This airport now feels different. The joy he usually feels upon stepping into its wide open spaces is no longer there.

Up until he met her in his dreams, he had always thought he was entirely happy. The knowledge that he had reached the top somehow left him assured, but not satisfied. He may make it in the future as a senior vice president, but now, even that position seems empty, almost trivial.

The airport is no longer feels like home. Now, the very first time in his life, he sees his workplace for what it truly is: lonely.

He sighs and walks out of the sliding doors, into the quiet of the empty waiting bays. Timong, his regular cabbie, is waiting by one of the columns with a smile. "Good evening, sir Heion."

Heion opens the door of the cab and crashes into the backseat, his heart and body exhausted in ways he didn't even know was possible.

"Wala na pong naiwan, sir?" tanong ni Timong sa kanya.

Find me again.

Her voice again. He closes his eyes as he contemplates a world without her.

Find me again.

"Timong, uhhmm... teka lang. May naiwan ako sa loob."

"Hintayin ba kita, sir?"

Find me again.

"Huwag na po. Pakiuna nalang po sa condo yung iba ko pang gamit. Salamat, kuya." he grabs his bag and bolts back into the airport. The guards let him back without question, amused at seeing their head trainer hasten through security like a man on fire.

He finds himself furtively studying every inch of the ground floor, looking for anyone with long brown hair. He rushes past the passengers pushing their trolleys and other tired soul sleeping in the corners.

Some of them glance up in surprise as they watch this handsome, well-dressed man Sprint from one end of the airport to another. He scans the faces of people in the corridors, food kiosks, escalators, and shops.

He remembers the book: eleven universes, eleven possibilities. Never in his life he had desperately wanted  physicist's mad theorem to be true. So maybe, just maybe, there is a brown-haired girl with a silver bracelet here.

And I will find her again.

After nearly half an hour of searching, he pauses to catch his breath.

She is not in the corridors or in any of the employees lounges. There is no trace of her from Gates 110 to 135. He hasn't seen anyone resembling her at all. He gulps as he realizes the futility of his attempt.

Pucha, Heion. Get a grip. Really get a grip this time. It was all dream. Just one big, elaborate dream. You won't find her because she doesn't exist. Even if there were eleven universes, she's isn't in this one. Go home.

There is a world without her, and he's living in it.

He finally pays heed to his rational thoughts and slumps down on an empty metal bench, burying his face in his hands. Now breathless and exhausted, he finds himself praying for his sanity to come back.

I really need to see a doctor. I really need to see dadm I really need to sleep.

I am going out of my mind.

Suddenly, he hears a soft, uncertain voice behind him.

"Sir?"