JAY'S POV :
(Time skips to when they visit the Hemilton university.)
We pushed through the heavy doors into the building and stopped short. The foyer smelled faintly of dust and old varnish; afternoon light slanted across the floor, making motes hang like slow stars. The only thing on the wall that first met us was a bulletin board. Unlike the faded, yellowed notices we'd seen earlier, these photos looked recent—glossy face shots with crisp type underneath.
"Jay…" Ci-N's voice made me look up. He was pointing at a printed list pinned to the board. "Your relative?" His finger hovered over a name.
I walked closer. My breath caught like someone had squeezed my chest.
Jasfer Mariano.
My heart stopped so fast it f(elt like everything inside me had fallen forward. Jasfer — my father. He studied here? The thought hit like a cold wave: is that why Kuya Angelo didn't want me coming? Is that why he was so protective when I said about this trip? I had lied about his signature to get in. I'd forged it and come anyway.
My hand hovered over the small, neat photograph beside the name. The photo was recent: a man with tired, kind eyes and a jaw that looked too familiar. I traced the outline of his face with my fingertip as if the paper would warm beneath my skin.
I miss you, I wanted to whisper. The words stuck in my throat.
"JAY!!" Ci-N shook me, dragging me back into the present.
"Do you know him?" he asked.
"N-no," I lied. I couldn't tell him he was my dad. Not yet.
(Time skips to the parking lot scene)
Later, the parking lot smelled of gasoline and hot asphalt. The sun made the bus windows glare silver. Keifer walked beside me, calm and steady. My mind kept looping back to the photo. My dad had been here, and I'd missed him—until, suddenly, I didn't.
A man was talking to a woman near the idling cars. For a second the world narrowed to that one silhouette. My knees went weak. He turned just as I realized it was him. Jasfer. My lungs forgot how to breathe.
I started to fall. Keifer's hand caught me at the elbow and steadied me like an anchor.
"Jay! What happened?" he asked, concern sharp in his voice.
I couldn't take my eyes off the man. My finger trembled as I pointed.
"H-he's m-my d-dad," I whispered.
"Your dad?…let's go." Keifer didn't hesitate; we moved toward him.
My voice came out before I could stop it.
"PAPA!" I called, and my feet seemed to know exactly where to carry me.
The man turned. Shock flashed across his face, then something softer, like the sun breaking through clouds.
"Jay? Is that you?" His voice was both fragile and thunderous.
I nodded. Tears streaked down my cheeks before I could think. I closed the distance between us in two strides and wrapped my arms around him. Everything inside me that had been knotted and raw melted into that embrace. I buried my face in his shirt, the smell of him — a mix of cologne and work-worn cotton — making me ache with a foolish, aching relief.
"I've been waiting for this moment… can I get a hug?" His voice trembled.
I closed the distance between us in two strides and wrapped my arms around him. I hugged him so hard my ribs hurt. Everything inside me that had been knotted and raw melted into that embrace. I buried my face in his shirt, the smell of him — a mix of cologne and work-worn cotton — making me ache with a foolish, aching relief. I was crying without sound, letting years of lonely birthdays and missed phone calls spill out on his chest.
"Why? Why should you wait for her permission? I'm your daughter, Papa," I whispered into him, words that had lived in my chest for so long they nearly broke me to say.
"Jay… I'm sorry. Forgive your papa…" he replied, and his voice cracked like an old violin string.
I couldn't keep the sobs out. I wanted to ask him everything; I wanted him to tell me why he'd left, why he'd let other people decide whether he could see me. But the hug was cut short—harshly, suddenly—when someone grabbed my arm.
"Let go of Jay Jay!" Aries barked.
"Aries," I snapped, wrenching to stay near Papa.
Aries's grip tightened, angry and possessive. His eyes were hard as flint; he stared at my father like the man was trash thrown onto sacred ground.
"Go away!" Aries ordered, every syllable an edge.
Papa tried to hold his ground.
"Aries… I'm talking. I want to be with my daughter."
Aries didn't let go. He kept pulling, and the world tilted. Pain flared where his fingers dug into my skin. I twisted and reached, hungering for one more moment against my father's chest.
"Go away if you don't want me to tell Aunt Jeana!" Aries shouted, venom thick in his throat.
Papa looked at me — the apology in his eyes lit me up like a blade. He backed away with a small, defeated movement and slid into his car. His hands fumbled for the door like someone who'd learned to let go long ago. He caught my eye one last time, the sadness in it asking more than it said, then he started the engine.
"Papa! Just a moment!" I cried, sprinting after the car. My shoes scraped on the pavement. Time pulled like soft taffy; it stretched and got thinner the closer I got.
Aries wrapped his arms around me from behind to stop me. Someone shouted my name.
"Jay! Stop!" Keifer's voice was frantic.
"Let me go, Aries!" I shoved and twisted, wanting to fly to where my father's car had already started to pull away.
Papa's car eased into traffic. By the time Aries let go, the taillights were a small red dot that went on and on. I knelt on the hot asphalt as if the road could hold me together. I watched him drive away and the sound of the engine tore through me.
I wanted to chase him until the world ended. Instead I sat there and let the burning, hollow ache bloom in my chest. This wasn't the first time. It was the same old ache, but sharper now because I'd held him, if only for a single, impossible moment.
"JAY-JAY!" someone shouted, and Aries went down with a surprised grunt.
My body moved on reflex. A large hand reached out and helped me up.
Yuri's face hovered in front of me like a lighthouse. Keifer stood too—his knuckles white, eyes still sharp. It looked like Keifer had pushed Aries, though I didn't remember any of that clearly; my world had been too small, too full of the man who'd just left.
"What happened?" Yuri asked, voice steady and low.
He glanced between me and Keifer, waiting for the story to land.
"Dad… I-I saw him," I managed. The words felt both triumphant and devastating.
(Scene skips at home)
"Do you know?" I asked, voice trembling.
He met my eyes and swallowed, then nodded just once. The single movement said everything and nothing.
"So that's it."
Relief and anger rolled through me at the same time.
"Is that why you didn't want me to go?" I demanded, the question sharper than I meant. "Is that why you wouldn't tell me?"
"That's not the point here—" Kuya started.
"I don't care about your point!" I snapped back.
His calmness had always been a kind of control; tonight I wanted none of it. I needed truth, not restraint.
"If I explain what you're asking, you won't get anything out of me," he said flatly.
His eyes avoided mine, and that avoidance felt like betrayal.
"But I have the right to know! That's my dad," I said, and my voice broke.
Tears spilled over, hot and furious.
His jaw tightened.
"I'm not the one who will explain it to you. Aunt Jeana will be here tomorrow. You'll have to ask her."
My stomach dropped.
"Don't let her come here. I don't want to see her." The words ripped free of me before I could shape them kinder.
Kuya Angelo's silence said everything.
"Jay—"
"I DON'T WANT TO SEE HER!" I screamed and ran out of the house before he could stop me.
The cab ride home felt like moving underwater. I kept seeing Papa's face: the surprise when he'd recognized me, the apology, the tiny hope that maybe this time things would be different. I locked my door and sat on the floor, back against the cool wood, and let myself fall apart. The hurt wasn't the same as the earlier crying that had been relief; this hurt was a jagged new slice, sharp as broken glass. He'd been right there and he'd left.
If I waited until I was eighteen, I promised myself, no one would have the right to decide for me. Their opinions, their rules—Aunt Jeana's smothering control, Aries's possession, Kuya's careful silence—wouldn't matter. I would not be held back by their fear. I would take what was mine.
I curled into myself on the floor and let the sobs come. Outside, the street was ordinary—lights blinking, a distant motorcycle humming—everything going on as if my whole world hadn't just turned over.