The Monotonous Life

Ever thought about striking it rich? Imagine it: cruising down the street in a fancy car, texting friends on the latest iPhone, flashing a high-end watch, and heading home to a place that's nothing short of a mansion. Sounds awesome, right? Let's be real, who hasn't daydreamed about living the high life? But here's the kicker - it's impossible if you are born into an average family. 

Sure, you might be thinking about those rags-to-riches stories. The ones where an average Joe becomes a billionaire. But let's face it, those are the exceptions, not the rule. Statistics show that only a tiny fraction of people break out of their economic class. Most of us, well, we stay right where we started. We go to work, pay the bills, and maybe splurge on a fancy dinner now and then, but that's about it.

For every one person who makes it big, there are thousands, if not millions, who don't. It's not just about hard work or talent; sometimes, it's just not being in the right place at the right time. Or not having that one-in-a-million idea. Or simply not being born with a silver spoon in your mouth.

So, while it's cool to dream about living large, the reality for most of us is pretty different. But hey, that doesn't mean we can't enjoy the life we have, right? Right?

The answer to that from Michael Reyes is no.

Meet Michael Reyes, born on September 19, 2001. He's your average guy from a lower middle-income family, grappling with the everyday grind. A second-year mechanical engineering student by morning, he dons his apron in the afternoon, serving up meals at Racks restaurant in SM North Edsa. Standing at 5'8", with an average build and a face that blends into the crowd, Michael is just another face in the bustling city.

Life for Michael is a juggling act. Between morning lectures and afternoon shifts, he's grinding to pay his tuition and chip in for the household bills. Home is a small, cozy place just two blocks away from the department store where his mother works full-time. She's the rock of the family, having raised Michael single-handedly since his father left them under less than honorable circumstances.

His father, a man who now sits at the helm of UniVida Pharmaceuticals, the largest pharmaceutical company in the Philippines, is a story of contrasts to Michael's humble life. After getting Michael's mother pregnant, he chose to walk away, leaving nothing but a meager hush money of 100,000 pesos. When Michael's mother tried to bring the truth to light, claiming their son, things took a darker turn. Shady dealings led to a manipulated DNA test, declaring negative results. It left her drowning in legal fees, only to be waived off under one condition from Michael's father: remain silent and vanish from his life. 

Of course, that's what Michael thought about what really happened. He believed his mother more than anyone in the world. And he hated his father so much that he wanted to get revenge on him? 

How? Well—no clue. To begin with, Michael doesn't have talent, he is pretty much average in academics, even fluking some subjects to the point that he might have to repeat it. Now, that's not because he was stupid, it's because he doesn't have the luxury of focusing only on his studies. He has to hustle remember? 

"Will I remain pitiful for my entire life?" Michael muttered under his breath as he walked down a dark alley, leading to the cluster where his house was located. His gaze downcast, too tired to even feel the weight of the world on his shoulders anymore. Every step he took echoed the monotony of his life – wake up, study, work, sleep, repeat. It was a relentless cycle, one that offered little hope for change.

As he trudged along, Michael's thoughts wandered to the unfairness of it all. Why did some people get everything handed to them on a silver platter while others, like him and his mother, had to scrape by just to make ends meet? It was a question that often haunted his sleepless nights. 

He wanted to have a life, a family, and a wife but looking at the bleak future, the inflation, and the ever-increasing cost of living, it seemed more like a distant dream. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his phone buzzing. It was a message from one of his classmates, asking if he had reviewed for the midterm exam tomorrow. Michael hadn't even started.

"Great," he sighed. "Another all-nighter." He quickened his pace, wanting to get home and at least try to get some work done. But deep down, he knew it was going to be a struggle. Between the long hours at the restaurant and trying to keep up with his studies, Michael was burning the candle at both ends.

As he walked, he accidentally made eye contact with a group of rough-looking guys hanging out in a dimly lit part of the alley. They noticed and walked up to him aggressively. "Got a problem, man?" one of them sneered.

Michael shook his head quickly, "No, no problem. Just passing through," he stammered, trying to keep his voice steady.

One of the guys, with a menacing look, stepped closer. "Are you sure about that?" he challenged.

Michael tried to explain, "I didn't mean to... I was just..." But before he could finish, a fist connected with his face, sending a sharp jolt of pain through his head. The world spun, and he felt himself falling, the ground rushing up to meet him. And then, darkness enveloped him.

***

Michael slowly regained consciousness, the dull ache in his head pulsating with every heartbeat. His eyes fluttered open to the sterile white lights of a health center. Looming over him was a familiar face etched with worry - his mother, Myra.

Myra's eyes lit up as she saw him stir. "Michael, thank God you're awake," she breathed a sigh of relief. Her hand gently squeezed his, a comforting presence in the confusion.

Michael tried to sit up but winced at the sharp pain that shot through his head. "What happened?" he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You were attacked," Myra explained, her voice tingling with anger. "Those thugs in the alley knocked you out. But don't worry, they caught them. They even got back your phone and the money they stole from you after you were out."

Michael's mind raced as he tried to piece together the fragments of his memory. The alley, the confrontation, the sudden blow to his face, and then nothing but darkness. 

"Are you okay, Mom?" he asked, noticing the tired lines on her face.

"I'm fine, Michael. I'm just glad you're safe," she replied, brushing his hair gently with her fingers.

Michael looked around, noting the morning light streaming in through the window of the health center. Panic dawned on his face as he suddenly realized the time. "Mom, what time is it?" he asked urgently.

Myra glanced at her watch. "It's eight-thirty, Michael," she replied. "Why?"

His panic rose exponentially. "My midterms start in one hour!" Michael exclaimed. 

 He attempted to get up, but the pain in his head reminded him of his limitations.

Myra gently pushed him back down. "Michael, you've been through a lot. You need to rest," she insisted, her tone brooking no argument. "I'm sure the school will understand." 

Michael shook his head. "No, I have to get there mom. They have this strict policy in major exams."

Ignoring his mother's protests, he swung his legs off the bed, steadying himself against the wave of dizziness that hit him. He quickly stowed his phone in his bag, which Myra had brought along with her.

Without waiting for further objection, Michael rushed out of the emergency ward. He hadn't even taken the time to clean himself up properly. His face was still sore, and his clothes were slightly disheveled from the scuffle, but none of that mattered now. The only thing on his mind was the ticking clock and the exam he was perilously close to missing.

He hurried through the corridors, ignoring the concerned glances from the hospital staff and patients. As he stepped outside, the bright morning sunlight hit him, momentarily blinding him. He squinted, pausing to gain his bearings, and then started off towards his college. He hailed a jeepney passing by and managed to hop on, still feeling a bit woozy from the earlier ordeal. 

The jeepney ride seemed to take forever, with every stop adding to Michael's anxiety. He kept glancing at his watch. As the jeepney inched closer to his university, a realization hit Michael like a ton of bricks. 

"Why am I rushing?" he thought. "I haven't even reviewed it. It's like going into a war without a weapon." The absurdity of the situation dawned on him. He was racing to an exam he was unprepared for, with a throbbing headache and a bruised face, all because he didn't want to miss it. But what was the point of attending if he hadn't studied? 

"Allow me to help you with that," an angelic voice sounded in his ears.

Michael's head snapped around, finding who said that. But all of the passengers in the jeep were men. And he heard a female voice.

"Here."

Michael blinked, his surroundings shifting abruptly. Gone was the jeepney and the busy streets; instead, he found himself in a stark white room. It was minimalistic, furnished only with an office desk and a chair. Standing before him was the source of the voice, a woman whose appearance was startlingly beautiful, almost otherworldly.

Her beauty wasn't the kind you'd see every day, not even on the glossy covers of magazines or in the glitzy world of television. It was something more, something ethereal. Her hair, long and golden, cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall of liquid sunlight. It framed her face perfectly, enhancing her striking features.

She appeared to be around Michael's age, yet there was an air of maturity about her. Her eyes held a depth that seemed to transcend the ordinary, captivating Michael immediately. She exuded a certain grace and elegance, the kind that made it impossible to look away.

Michael stood there, awestruck and slightly disoriented, trying to comprehend the surreal situation. It was as if he had stepped into another world.

"Who are you..? Where am I?" Michael asked.

"I am Eris. I was moved by your way of life, and for that, I shall give you a gift that will help achieve your dreams."