A FRESH START

FIREBLADE'S BLOG (SIX WEEKS AGO)

"It's Friday again, guys! TGIF! Let's party!

Actually, I'm not much of a party animal but those of you who are, have fun guys!

I am excited about the weekend, though- no school. There's something else. I'll give you one hint: Paprika.

You read me right. Paprika is the spice on my mind right now. It's amazing and healthy- it even has a fun name: PAPRIKA!

Not only is it amazing, sweet and spicy - just like some of you awesome people reading my blog today *wink wink*- it also sounds like a really cool name you'd like to name your child if you didn't know its meaning.

Anyway! This weekend, I'll be exploring all the dishes we can use Paprika for, and as always you can count on me to upload pictures. I'll also post tried and tested recipes.

So, that's how my weekend is going to go, guys.

No parties for me :-(

Don't feel bad for me though.

The kitchen is my nightclub ;-)

You guys can join the fun at Fireblade's Kitchen by sending your suggestions, dish recipes, pictures, videos- anything, really- to the email account listed below. I'll be sure to put them up on the blog.

No hate mails please.

Stay cooking! Fireblade away."

THE PRESENT

D. J SERRANO'S POV

I watched as the last of our stuff was packed and loaded into the moving van.

The people Enrique had hired were professionals from a well reputed moving company here in Manila, but I continued to watch them like a hawk. It wasn't because I thought they were going to steal anything.

I just...

There was a feeling right there in my gut that I couldn't shake off. Maybe it was wistfulness, because the sentimentality of the moment was like a tight noose around my neck; it was threatening to cut off my oxygen.

Enrique seemed to be handling the move far better than I was. He occupied his time by barking orders at virtually everyone in sight. When he wasn't doing that, he was on his phone, tormenting his employees or talking to a business partner.

My brother was a workaholic. Efficiency was his only coping mechanism these days- efficiency and women. The latter were less constant because he hasn't really dated anyone in years.

This was my fault- the move, not my brother's whorish ways. We can thank my Dad for that one.

Since my parents' accident, I'd been on a self- destructive mission. At least, that is what my therapist keeps telling me. I sort of see his point. It had started with my grades, and the slow decline had gradually built up momentum until that moment six weeks ago...when I tried to take my life.

Don't ask me why I did it. Don't ask me what was running through my mind when I held the razor to my wrists. It happened after my fifteenth shot of tequila. Also, I had just been dumped by a girl I didn't even love. Sure, Laila had left me for my best friend so maybe I should be a little hurt by the whole thing.

Maybe I was.

Still, I recognized what happened as one of those things that we rich kids did. We toyed with other people's feelings all the time.

So, I shouldn't take it personal.

Regardless, something about the alcohol induced haze had inspired me to think about my life. The way I lived now...let us just say my mother wouldn't be proud of the person I had become. I didn't want to live anymore. But I was trying now. For myself. For Enrique.

While I was recovering, during my month long exile in the hospital- you know, for therapy and stuff- my brother had asked me what I wanted.

At first, I wanted to tell him to turn back time. Yes, life had been shitty back when Dad was awake, and not stuck in a coma like he is today. But at least Mom was there to dull away the pain. She was my sunshine. The Iron Skillet to my Fireblade. Now she was gone. And Dad was still breathing. On the bright side, he was as good as dead.

"A fresh start," I'd told him eventually. "Far away from Manila. We could go and stay with Grandma. Near the ocean..."

Because there were too many memories in Manila. Dad had built his empire here. Kept his mistresses here. Made our lives miserable here. And I longed for the beaches my mother had played in as a child; the places where my best memories were made.

"A fresh start," I echoed now, staring at the mansion I had been raised in.

"Daniel," Enrique called imperiously from the back seat of the limo. The movers were done. It was time. "We have to go now, or we'll miss our flight." His phone was still pressed to his ear. Enrique was such a bossy human being. He also happened to be my legal guardian...and the only family I had left, aside from my maternal grandmother, Grandma Anita, who we fondly called "Lalanita."

In his defense, my brother was having an especially busy day because Dad's board members were opposed to his decision to move Highlander Incorporation's headquarters away from Manila. And they were quite adept at expressing their displeasure in the form of extra paperwork and useless bureaucracy. His attitude probably wasn't helping things but those old geezers, who used to play golf with my father, needed to realize that Enrique wasn't my father. As a matter of fact, Enrique expressly despised our father.

"Goodbye Mom," I whispered into the wind, as I took one last look at the mansion. Maybe I would never have to return, I hoped.

"Geez! Daniel. What took you so long?" my brother muttered when I got into the back seat with him. He checked his expensive Rolex watch. "Thank God we still have time before our flight. Drive, Ignacio."

EMMY MENDOZA'S POV

I was busy reading a book when my cousin-slash-foster brother, Inigo called. I picked the call with a sigh.

"Is there a reason why you're calling me at this time?"

"Were you sleeping?" he asked, with an air of apology.

"No. I was reading."

"I see," he stated. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I am in bed. Reading."

"What could you possibly be reading at this time of the night? During the holidays!"

The outrage in his voice made me smile.

"Business books. I have a business to run, remember?"

At my response, Inigo made another sound of outrage. My grin widened. I picked up a textbook on my bed.

"I'm also trying to get a head start on the new school year," I confessed.

He groaned again.

"You know I can't afford to fail, Inigo," I reminded him seriously.

"Yeah, yeah, Emmy. Like that's possible. How are things at home?"

"Great," I replied, cheerfully.

I was relieved about the change of topic. We both knew that his nagging wouldn't change anything.

I would still be a nerd, to my cousin's chagrin.

"Are the evil twins behaving themselves?" he asked.

I chuckled at his nickname for my step-sisters.

"Yes. So far, Merry and Noelle have been behaving well. It's been kind of peaceful lately. "

"That's good."

"Eduardo's starting school next week," I informed him.

"Oh shoot, I forgot. How's the little nugget handling it?"

"He's freaking out. Sometimes, he handles it well but I don't think he believes he's going to be okay. He keeps begging me to go with him."

"He's adorable," Inigo said laughingly.

"That's true. When are you coming back?"

"Soon," Inigo promised solemnly. "Stop missing me so much, Emmy," he added on a lighter note.

"You wish," I scoffed, unwilling to admit he was right.

I did miss him.

If his answering laugh was anything to go by, I really wasn't fooling anyone.

After Inigo's call, I read for a little while before I finally slept.

The next day was last Sunday before resumption. My mates were out enjoying their last day of summer vacation but I was stuck behind the counter at Emilio's, my late father's restaurant. I told myself I didn't mind. However, with every hour that passed, Sara made it harder for me to keep the optimism.

Sara was my best friend. She was one of the few people that knew that I was a lot more than the nerdy girl who read books all the time, who was obsessed with her grades. She was one of the few people who knew the real reason why I was so determined to see my father's restaurant succeed. She was one of the few people that knew I had a wild side. So, yeah, Sara was pretty dear to my heart.

At the moment, she was also very bored.

She switched through the channels on the T.V for the fifth time in thirty minutes. Her options were pretty limited because cable wasn't exactly a priority at Emilio's; the sound system took precedence. Currently, a really popular song by Mario Guevarra was playing through the speakers. He was a teen sensation that Sara was kinda obsessed with right now. But she was a little too bored to care. I felt oddly responsible for her predicament; I mean, she wouldn't even be here - doing nothing - if it weren't for me.

"Do you think it will rain today, Emmy?"

"Maybe," I reply carefully. I wasn't sure of where she was going with the question. With Sara, one never knew.

"Maybe people think it will rain today," she stated confidently.

I was confused. "What?"

"That would explain why we've had only three customers all day. And one of them just wanted to use the toilet," she clarified.

"We've only been open for two hours," I reminded her. "Patience."

Despite my half- hearted attempt at optimism, I wasn't feeling very positive. The thing was, I knew just how badly Emilio's was doing right now. It was part of the reasons I was glad that school was resuming tomorrow. Maybe business would pick up then. But hope was a dangerous thing to have in the face of the scorching disappointment of an empty restaurant.

"I'm sooooo bored!" Sara exclaimed for the hundredth time and I couldn't resist rolling my eyes.

"I'm bored too but there's no point dwelling on it."

She groaned and changed the channel once more. I felt a little sorry for her. She didn't have to be here, like she actually had a choice. I didn't.

"You don't have to stay. You know that, right? I mean, it's not like we can even afford to pay you right now," I pointed out. The restaurant was barely able to keep the lights on with the kind of sales it was making. Paying for two part-time servers was out of it. I wasn't even paying myself. Then again, I never did. With deep shame, I remembered why I never had to worry about it; my step-father gave me a sizable allowance every month. Yes, I was bankrolling my late father's restaurant with my step-dad's money. And it made me a little sick inside, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

My best friend tucked her brunette hair behind her ear, glared at me and snorted,

"Right. I'll go hang out with my other best friend and leave you here, all alone, then. " Her eyes widened dramatically. "Oh! Wait, I don't have another best friend. You're stuck with me, Emmy."

"Then stop complaining."

"Stop complaining," she mimicked playfully. "I like complaining."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed.

Then, I grabbed a towel and started wiping the counter. For the third time. In 15 minutes.

"You know..." Sara said suddenly, batting her eyelashes at me in a way that had my eyes narrowing at her. "Things wouldn't be so bad if you'd said yes to Nico. If you guys were dating, he'd probably be dropping by every now and then- he might even bring some of his friends from the basketball team..."

"Are you trying to pimp me out?" I asked incredulously. "For entertainment?"

This time it was Sara that rolled her eyes at me. Then, she hit me with her hand fan (the air-con was faulty and we didn't see the point of fixing it, right now...even when we did fix it, we couldn't afford to keep it running all the time).

"Hey! I'm not a pimp! And telling you to give the captain of the basketball team a chance is hardly prostitution, Emmy Mikay Mendoza!"

"If you think he's so interesting, you can date him instead," I stated drily.

"No, I couldn't," Sara replied sweetly. "I'd combust from all his hotness."

I burst into laughter, "Is that a line from one of the plays you're planning to sign up for this semester? You're such a dork sometimes. Remind me why we're friends again?"

She hit me again and I continued laughing.

"Ha ha. Laugh it up, Emmy. Nerd."

Her serious expression only cracked me up more. Another song by Mario Guevarra started playing on the radio. It was one of his hit songs, "Party." I turned it up and wiggled my brows at Sara to cheer her up.

"C'mon, Sara! This is one of your favorite songs!" I drew her into my crazy dance. She started laughing when I stumbled on the lyrics of the chorus, and joined me in our crazy dance. She was a much better dancer than I was, maybe because she'd been taking dance lessons since she could walk. She had a great voice too. Then, we both started giggling like crazy because my dance steps were horrible and I didn't know- or care about- most of the lyrics to the song. Also, the song was a little bit stupid.

But neither of us minded. Just jamming with my best friend in my Dad's empty restaurant, on the last day of summer vacation, was one of those things I lived for.