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Picturesque

We take photographs as Return Tickets to moments otherwise gone. As Pat regains his shutter touch, Jane arrives in his borderline-okay life, which will make unimaginable differences.

TheScintillator · Realistis
Peringkat tidak cukup
18 Chs

Chapter XIV - An Optimistic Opportunity

It felt ironic how these past few days had been – I never felt this better. My life was indeed a whirlwind of rapid vicissitudes. Astonishingly, my attitude towards a lot of subtleties had been redefined. Maybe, I just really needed Ma'am Merl's spitfire to thaw out my coarsened temperament. Even when I was in Manila, the tendencies of my short-sparked nature buttressed my reputation as a great friend, and a bloodcurdling enemy.

Everything was a run in the mill for me, especially the fact that even if I had insomnia I still woke up as early as the birds – just like a propitious early morning of the 11th of January. It was almost four in the morning when I rose from my sound sleep. At that moment, I realized that somehow, my restlessness will make a huge impact especially that the semester was about to start.

As usual, I made a cup of milk, then took a seat at our terrace. I always did the same when I worked far from home. Since the BPO industry reprimanded us to work at night, a complete nap was always a challenge. Furthermore, the overflowing stress brought by the working environment insouciantly triggered my cravings for smoke.

Many may not believe it, but smoking enormously helped in relieving the exacerbation. Some say that smoking was just a way for call center agents to adapt with their surroundings – to be accepted by the majority of the BPO populace. Nevertheless, I served as a living testament that people needed not to negatively typecast call center workers just because smoking will always be known as a vice. At the end of the day, the industry will never be dethroned as the most income-generating industry in the Philippines.

The appeasing winds gently propelled the tall coconut and mango trees to sway to its every whoosh. I took a sip of my calming milk, looked up to the dark blue early morning skies and enjoyed a comforting view of the sun as it slowly overtook the dusk with its vivacity.

I took my phone out, and browsed through my social media account. To my surprise, Joe sent me a friend request – which I accepted without any reluctance. After I hit on the Accept button, I instantly remembered the moment he gave me Jane's name on Facebook.

An unexpected thought cut across my head – "Is this a sign?"

After taking another sip, my conscience came into play once again.

Good Conscience: "There's nothing wrong if you add her. Besides, you're already single right?"

Bad Conscience: "That's true!"

Good Conscience: "Is this real? You actually agreed with me!"

Bad Conscience: "Hold your horse. The reason why I agreed is because he needs someone to make him forget Angel."

Good Conscience: "Pat, you're better than this. If you'll befriend her, make sure that it's not because of the mere fact that you want to forget Angel. You already know what's right and wrong."

Bad Conscience: "I don't really like your attitude!"

They both swooshed afterwards.

--------------------

"Yes, this is Emerlina Arnante speaking."

Ma'am Merl got a call from the Tertiary Press Conference committee as the much-awaited contest was about to be held on the 5th until the 7th of February. She immediately agreed with the invitation. However, since we were a Community College funded by the Provincial Government, we can only manage to send two students.

The Tertiary Press Conference no longer required the participants to partake in the District and Division level. All colleges and universities shall compete straight to the Regional phase.

Right after their call, Ma'am Merl phoned me.

"WHAT? THAT'S GREAT!" I cheered.

"Yes, and you're one of the two writers I personally picked to represent our school?"

"W-wow. I mean, why me?" I asked. "There's a lot of writers in our publication. I'm fairly new to the staff."

"Are you possibly worried that your colleagues will feel bad because they are more tenured than you?"

"You got me. I make sense though, right?"

"You do," she answered. "But, do you think they can do something with my decision?"

"You're freaking Emerlina Arnante. Of course they can't. But—"

"No more buts," she rebutted. "Obviously, you're the most capable among my people. Aside from that, your resume should slap all probable detractors away."

"Are you sure?"

"You're in whether you like it or not."

I sighed. "Well, I guess there's not much of a choice left for me."

"Perfect! Now, stop procrastinating and start training!"

My face crumpled. "I am not procrastinating!"

She let out a wee-bit laughter. "HI-HI-HI. Anyway, you'll take on Sports Writing for sure. Think of two more events so we can maximize your entry."

"Alright. Thank you for trusting me."

As soon as she dropped the call, I took another sip of my sumptuous milk but it was already freezing – I drank it anyway.

"So, I have to select two more events," I told myself. "I can join Poetry Writing for sure. But, what about the remaining one?"

--------------------

As baffled as I was, my mom caught my eyes pinioned on my food.

"Pat," she said.

I was startled. "Y-yes?"

"Your food is getting cold."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"What's the matter, son?"

"I-I was just thinking," I murmured while eating. "Ma'am Merl called me earlier, told me that she wants me to join the Tertiary Presscon."

"Wow!"

"I had the same reaction, Ma."

"Then, what's bothering you?"

"Well, I'm in for Sports Writing and Poetry Writing for sure."

"Okay?"

"But, I need to join one more event because BCC will only send two students."

"To maximize the entry. I see."

My mom used to be a successful publication adviser when we both were in SMA. She steered her writers up to the Regional level, which was definitely huge. Consequently, she became a prominent publication adviser in our district.

"What do you think should I choose?"

She shook her head, "I don't know. Think about it."

"Yes, Ma. I will."

"Do you have something in mind though?"

"I do."

"Photojournalism," my mind whispered.