Chapter 2

"We should've taken a taxi."

"Taxis aren't exactly common in the province, Matthew," his mother replied, her tone even but loud enough to compete with the tricycle's thunderous rattle.

If the tricycle wasn't insufferably loud, then maybe—just maybe—this ride wouldn't be so unbearable. But the noise was only the beginning. There were the bumpy old roads, the sharp turns, the relentless heat, and the sticky sweat plastering his clothes to his back. Everything about this journey was a waking nightmare for Matthew.

"God help me! Are we there yet?!" he roared, his voice barely cutting through the metallic cacophony of the sidecar.

"We're almost there..." his mother replied, raising her voice to meet his.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. He hated her now, though, truthfully, he had only disliked her before—back when they were in London, where life made sense. But she just had to drag him into this fiasco, uprooting him from everything he understood. His familiar world had snapped like brittle ice, giving way to the unpredictable chaos of this unfamiliar spring.

And for what? To meet relatives he never wanted to know?

"Mat—"

The tricycle jerked to a halt, the sudden jolt cutting her words short. A loud bang followed, and Matthew jumped in his seat as the vehicle groaned and rolled to an unsteady stop.

He was out of the sidecar in a heartbeat, his face flushed with anger and sweat.

"What the hell just happened?!" he barked, running his hands through his hair in utter frustration.

His mother stepped out more cautiously, placing a hand on his arm, gently pulling him to the side as he continued grumbling like a child throwing an ineffable tantrum. "Matthew, calm down—"

"Calm down?!" he snapped, tearing his arm free and glaring at her. "I told you I wanted to stay at the hotel, but nooo, you just had to drag me out here and force me into that—" he gestured wildly at the tricycle—"that thing!"

His voice carried far, loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear. Heads turned, curious eyes darting toward the commotion. Matthew could feel the weight of their stares, but his anger drowned out any sense of embarrassment.

"Matthew, please..." his mother began again, her tone soft but firm. "We talked about this. I haven't seen my family in years. They're here to help us, and they're so excited to see you! Tita Christine, your cousin Amor—"

"I don't care!" he interrupted, crossing his arms. "I didn't want to come here in the first place. I don't need their help. I didn't need—"

She cut him off by reaching for his hand, holding it tightly despite his resistance. "I know why you're upset," she said quietly, her voice trembling. "I know because I've been where you are now. I had to leave my family and friends behind, too, when I moved to London. It wasn't easy, Matthew. Believe me, I understand."

"Matthew, this is all we've got now, THEY are the only one's we can turn to fir help. Your education, my job—and although UK for the past few weeks have been miserable..."

Her words gave him pause, her sudden vulnerability softening his sharp glare. He hated how she always managed to disarm him like this, turning his anger into guilt with just a few heartfelt sentences.

"... I gave that place a chance," she continued, her lips curving into a bittersweet smile. "And look what it brought me." She cupped his face gently, her thumb brushing his jaw.

"A divorce?" he quipped, but there was no venom in his tone.

She laughed, a small, warm sound that eased some of the tension between them. "A son," she replied, her voice softening further. "And I couldn't ask for more, my sweet little—"

"Alright, alright, geez!" Matthew pulled away, but not before a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Beneath his temper, there was sweetness to him, though few had the patience to see it.

"Someday, this place will make you happy," she said, ruffling his hair affectionately before turning to the driver.

The old man approached hesitantly, his hat in hand. "Ma'am, I'm really sorry, but the tire's blown, the road is bumpy and I can't risk my vehicle, so I can't take you further."

"Fuck this," Matthew muttered under his breath.

The driver scratched the back of his neck. "I can refund part of your fare and call a friend to pick you up if that's alright."

"That's fine, Manong...?" she prompted with a kind smile.

"Andi, ma'am," he said, his tone brightening as he introduced himself. It was a reminder of how kind their hometown was—the breadth of hospitality she missed, and seemingly, the most unchanging part of their tiny municipality.

After reciting his entire library of curses in his mind—which was about ten—Andi busied himself making calls, Matthew's mother sat on a stone block by the sidewalk, trying to lighten the mood. "You know, I can't believe you've never had a single fling all these years."

"Really? Out of all the things we could talk about, it had to be that? Bold choice, Mom," Matthew retorted, crossing his arms.

"Well, it's true," she teased. "You're handsome and talented, but you're so closed off. Maybe you should—"

"Let's not," he interrupted, his tone flat.

A new tricycle pulled up just then, its loud beeping cutting their conversation short. Relief washed over Matthew as the vehicle stopped beside them. The driver and his passengers exchanged curious glances before the driver leaned out, grinning.

"Mang Andi! What the heck happened, you old bloke? Engine broke down?" Asked the new driver, turning off his engine to look at Andi's own.

"You moron! Tire just popped no big deal," Matthew stood beside the two. Tad bit surprised t see a shift in Manong Andi's demeanor, then the new driver eyed him—the guy smiled recognizing the lost look on Matthews face.

"Tourist, huh? Is this your passenger?" the man asked, gesturing toward Andi, his brows slightly raised in curiosity.

"Yeah," Andi replied, brushing dust off his jacket. "I flagged someone down at the parking lot. They mentioned you were headed to the covered court. Mind taking over for me? I need to make a quick call—"

Before he could finish, a blur of motion caught his eye.

"OH. MY. GOSH! Tita, is that you?!"