Chapter Two: Beneath the Surface

The Pasig River gleamed under the pale light of the moon, its murky waters reflecting the hazy glow of Manila's scattered streetlights. Angelo sat on a rusted iron railing overlooking the riverbank, nervously tapping the sole of his worn-out sneakers against the post. He was waiting—not for a delivery this time, but for something he couldn't quite name.

He had slipped away from the Salazar group's meeting, claiming he needed air. In truth, he needed time to think. His mind kept circling back to the boy from the other night—the Montemayor heir, Emilio.

Angelo cursed under his breath. He knew better than to think about him. Emilio was a Montemayor, born into wealth and power, while Angelo had spent his life running messages just to keep food on the table. They were on opposite sides of a bloody war, and yet…

The sound of footsteps pulled Angelo from his thoughts. His heart leaped into his throat, but he kept his expression calm as a shadow emerged from the dark.

"You're terrible at hiding," Emilio said, stepping into the faint light of the lamppost. His leather jacket glistened with droplets of rain, and his dark hair clung to his forehead.

Angelo straightened, masking his surprise with a smirk. "You're terrible at minding your own business."

Emilio leaned against the railing, crossing his arms. "You should be more careful. This isn't exactly a safe place to linger, especially for someone in your line of work."

"Funny," Angelo said, tilting his head. "I was going to say the same to you."

For a moment, neither spoke. The city buzzed faintly in the distance, the occasional honk of a jeepney or murmur of a vendor reaching their ears. Emilio broke the silence first.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

Angelo shrugged. "Why are you?"

"Because I need answers," Emilio said, his voice steady but his eyes uncertain. "About you. About that night."

Angelo hesitated. He could still feel the weight of Emilio's gaze from that rainy alley—the boy who should've shot him, but didn't.

"There's nothing to explain," Angelo said finally. "You had a job. I had mine. That's it."

"Is it?" Emilio pressed. He took a step closer, his voice dropping. "Because I'm starting to think you don't belong in this world any more than I do."

Angelo's jaw tightened. "You don't know anything about me."

"Then tell me," Emilio challenged.

The words hung between them, heavy with tension. Angelo wanted to laugh, to tell Emilio to go back to his privileged life and leave him alone. But instead, he found himself saying, "You're right. I don't belong here. I hate every second of it. But it's not like I have a choice."

Emilio nodded, his expression softening. "Maybe we both don't."

Their uneasy conversation was cut short by the sound of distant shouts. Angelo froze, his instincts kicking in. He recognized the voices—Salazar's men, calling his name.

"Damn it," Angelo muttered, pushing off the railing. He turned to Emilio. "You shouldn't be here."

"And you should?" Emilio shot back.

Before Angelo could argue, the shouts grew louder, accompanied by the heavy thud of boots on concrete. They were close.

"Come on," Emilio said, grabbing Angelo's wrist.

"What are you doing?" Angelo hissed, trying to pull away.

"Saving your ass," Emilio said. "Now move."

He led Angelo through the narrow streets, ducking into alleyways and climbing over fences. Angelo had to admit he was impressed—Emilio moved with surprising agility for someone who'd likely never had to run for his life before.

They finally stopped on the rooftop of an old tenement building, panting as they crouched behind a crumbling wall. Below them, Salazar's men spread out, their flashlights cutting through the darkness.

"They won't check up here," Emilio said, leaning against the wall.

Angelo raised an eyebrow. "How do you know?"

"I don't," Emilio admitted, a small grin tugging at his lips.

Angelo rolled his eyes but couldn't help the faint smile that crept onto his face.

A Glimpse of Vulnerability

As the minutes stretched into hours, the two boys stayed hidden, the tension between them giving way to a cautious sense of camaraderie.

"You really don't have to keep saving me," Angelo said eventually, breaking the silence.

"I don't know," Emilio replied, his tone light. "It's starting to become a habit."

Angelo chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You're insane, you know that? If your father finds out you helped me—"

"He won't," Emilio interrupted. "And even if he does… I'll handle it."

Angelo studied him, his usual bravado fading. "Why are you doing this?"

Emilio hesitated, his expression unreadable. "Because I see myself in you," he said finally. "And I don't want to lose that part of me."

The honesty in his voice caught Angelo off guard. For a moment, he forgot about the danger waiting for them below.

"I think you're crazier than I am," Angelo said, but there was no malice in his tone.

"Maybe," Emilio said with a shrug.

They sat in silence for a while, the distant sounds of the city fading into the background. Despite everything—their families, their differences, the chaos surrounding them—there was a strange sense of peace in that moment.

When the coast was finally clear, Angelo insisted on parting ways.

"You don't need to walk me home," he said as they climbed down from the rooftop.

"I wasn't going to," Emilio replied, smirking.

Angelo rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile.

Before they went their separate ways, Emilio reached into his jacket and pulled out a small pendant on a chain. It was simple, a tiny silver medallion engraved with an unrecognizable symbol.

"Take this," Emilio said, holding it out to Angelo.

Angelo frowned. "What is it?"

"Let's just say it's a good luck charm," Emilio said.

Angelo hesitated but eventually took the pendant, tucking it into his pocket.

"You're strange, Montemayor," Angelo said as he turned to leave.

"Yeah," Emilio called after him. "But you'll see me again."

Angelo didn't respond, but as he disappeared into the shadows, he found himself clutching the pendant tightly.

•••

As dawn broke over Manila, both boys found themselves consumed by thoughts of the other.

For Emilio, the encounter reaffirmed his growing doubts about his place in his father's world. He couldn't stop thinking about Angelo—the way he had stood his ground, the way his smile seemed to defy the weight of the world.

For Angelo, the pendant in his pocket was a constant reminder of Emilio's unexpected kindness. He had spent his life trusting no one, yet somehow, he couldn't shake the feeling that Emilio was different.

Neither of them knew it yet, but their paths were set to intertwine again, pulling them deeper into a dangerous game where loyalty, love, and survival would collide.