THEATER

Three exhausting yet fruitful class sessions had passed. My neck hurts and I'm a bit sleepy, but I got to satiate this hunger first. I checked my wallet and I think I have enough for a complete meal. This should be fast, I don't want my daughter to perform without me seeing it. I sprinted down to the canteen for an awaited chicken, a crab soup, and grains.

"Arthur!" shouted a familiar voice.

I let out a heavy breath. Conveniently, she decided to surprise me here rather than I pick her up from the neighborhood. She told us that she might not be able to drop by on our dear's birthday but promised that she'll make up for it. And what'd you know? Here she was and thank God, only a day late.

Look at Claire, Stella. Her brown overcoat suits her well don't you think? She had her black hair styled short before but seems to prefer it long nowadays. Whatever make-up she puts on her face and wherever she decides to hide in a crowd, her heterochromia of the eyes would never fail to reveal her location. Her left eye made her so unforgettable even if that scenery is as frequent as the blue moon, and her right makes you feel the greenery of summer bloom.

She even has her heels taken off and lying untidily under her chair. You would be surprised to see her like this for she only does this when it's just the two of us. She's quite timid when you're around.

I waved back and proceeded to come near her. "Hi, you went here early, and with a bowl of soup the same as mine." I mockingly glared at her, "Merritown's crab soup is irresistible?"

"The crab soup is great but I'm more excited to hear what story you have in the works." She answered in a confoundingly straightforward manner like she never did go out of town for months!

"Well, you are so excited that you arrived a day forward. Not entirely late to watch something."

A half-smile was the only thing that returned. Well, she's an actress, perfecting facades is plain easy. Her glaring eyes then scanned me in a jiffy from head to foot. There was a small silence but she broke it quickly.

She crossed her arms and shrugged. "Right. I just received some news, that... little Welly will have her dance, without someone here inviting me!"

"I will do invite you, of course. But, hey! I thought I'm your only Welly, Claire?" I crossed my arms as well and gave a pretentious frown. "Why do you even know that Cypress will have a performance today? I guess you and Cypress had a secret chit-chat."

"Well, well, Welly." She had her hands hover over the side of my eyes as if she was wiping something out from them. She then pinched my cheeks and laughed.

"Ouch!"

"You're still cute."

"Always will be." I nodded, "Anyway, after this, I'll have you picked-up once I washed my face and go to my dear's class. Wait for me by the parking lot of the faculty building. I'm sure she'll be excited to see you. She may not act like it though."

"I know, I know. Should I treat her to some ice cream? I'm sure she'll then act like it."

Our dear does grow fond of Claire so much. Her 'auntie' never missed on treating her to ice cream during her annual visits. She does know that our dear has a sweet tooth over that avocado flavor. I just don't get why is Claire's avocado ice cream so special that it makes her smile from ear to ear compared to when I give her one. This is so unfair.

"Hey! You're daydreaming and smiling?" she laughed.

"Huh?" I replied.

"Uhm-uh." Her forehead suddenly wrinkled, lips shaking and restless.

"What is it?"

"Uh… Let me digress from the topic a … little … bit. How's your … theater?"

I bent my head down and felt some clogging in my throat. "I don't want to talk about that," I immediately drank water from a glass, then pressed it back onto the table.

"I thought it might be a great idea for you to write again. I heard a story from someone and it appears you still have it in you. Why don't you … try." Her smile shakes. "I want to perform there if you would... Uhm, like. While on my tour, I was hoping to —"

"Just stop." I drank water once more. "I'll just have it sold once I have the free time, let's just eat."

She pulled the collars of her overcoat closer to one another. She loosely held her spoon and lightly tapped it onto her bowl. With a forced smile, she muttered, "I guess I shouldn't have tried asking about it."

From there, we ate in silence. I finished my meal fast to not waste it even though I already lost my appetite.

That rotten theater house. I don't know what came up in her mind to even say a thing about it. My teeth ground with force. I felt the veins in my neck become constricted and blood rushed up to my head. My fists clenched tightly, almost breaking the glass I'm holding.

"That bastard!" I hollered. I just found myself slamming the table after. The whole cafeteria looked at me with shock. Claire flinched and had stepped away from me a little. "A-a-I'm sorry," I said as I slowly exit the canteen after trying to recompose myself.

I went into the bathroom and proceeded to wet my face, gently. I continued rubbing my palms on my face for I cannot feel the refreshing cold that I expect from the tap. And yet my fingers clawed and froze. They were immovable but quivers as a whole. "Ah!" I tightly grasped my hair.

I can never really forget nor forgive that guy. That liar, opportunistic, high yet low, abuser son of a wraith! I can never erase in my head all the things that he did to us. How can I not know it from the start? Why didn't it ever reached me that he wanted you and used that offering of his for his own goddamn sake! The way he held your hand when you agreed to be a part of his play, and the way he smiled when you accepted it. "I will make you the biggest star. Such deception."

That conniving and coquettish smile when Mrs. Mannering introduced him to us. "Why didn't it ever come to me?" The mirror in front of me perfectly portrays the reaction I only could've imagined. How's it that he's still back out in the open?

Eyes red and wide. Face dragged and distorted behind the glass, turbulent dark waters. "I can always act and make things real," you kept saying. And you did act it so well everyone didn't suspect it was fake.

Every year, ever since you became a part of the theater club, the halls were always filled with the audience. If the hall is allowed to accommodate more, then even the aisles and corridors will be occupied. Crowds jostled and commotions arise at the entrance in every play wherein you participated. It's like a battle, I always fought my way to the entrance just to see Claire and you perform. Everyone applauded and stood in awe as the curtains fall at the finale. A small list of things my theater couldn't give you.

I made you a queen, an heiress. I wrote a play where you're a goddess. I did everything for you, Stella. If only … If only had I stopped you from going to the Teatro Royal Hall. Maybe I was afraid but still, you know I wouldn't…. You know I would never stop you from pursuing your dreams.

What if I stayed by your side at that time and didn't leave running and crying like a child? What if I held your hand tighter? What if. ... What if I took you away from him? I could have saved you from such a finale.

The faucet still runs and its water had made its way to my nose. It is as if a sac is formed with its tension enveloping my airways, and had made its way to my lungs. My jaw tightened, fists wrung anew and arms trembled. "Ah!"

A loud knock struck onto the door. I wiped my face, fixed my collar, rebuttoned my shirt, and put on my suit. I released a heavy breath and then opened the door.

"What are you doing?" Claire bolted right next to me then patted my shoulders. "You know I've been waiting for you at the parking lot for minutes now. I knew you're up to something and so I came back."

I sighed. The cold colors of her eyes do seem to exude a certain warmth.

"Come on. We're gonna be late at Cypress's performance. I know you wouldn't want to miss that out." She's right. I have more things to do than sulk.

We walked to the parking lot and drove our way out to the road. The row of the coconut trees by the bay produces a shade darker than the night. Without the waves, the waters are unusually static. People were walking on the sidewalks, cars were rushing as if they're trying to chase something, and buildings dashing backward. Then there's that one, that shabby and dilapidated theater that I own.

It's where all my savings and the old money from my mom went into. She worked hard for it and I just made it go down the drain. To think that it's just meters away from an art school you would surmise it shall be frequented. Maybe I'm an incompetent playwright. Well, it's not the money that I wanted, it's your happiness.

I find it funny that I singlehandedly tried to demolish it. And even in that I failed and felt powerless. There are cracks on its brick walls that are painted white, holes made by the slamming of a sledgehammer, a wooden sign at the entrance that hangs precariously, dome-shaped golden roofing that is about to collapse, and a large oak door that had been chipped-off. Claire turned her body away from it as we pass by. Maybe she felt guilty about what had happened earlier.

"I'm sorry," I said as I placed my palm on her shoulders.

"No, I'm sorry. I should've been more sensitive." She tapped my hand and looked at me with a heavy eye.

"It's ok," I replied.

It's always been there; by the sea, decorated by tall coconut trees and just steps from the open area where people may walk for pleasure. I always called that theater 'The Esplanade'. No one really can go past it without noticing it. But, I have learned to ignore it. Every day, I only see the sea and the shore behind it before it was built. It was all good until now, as I am aware once more that it has been standing there all along.