The Name She Won't Say

The sun was relentless. Each step Ryan took felt heavier, the heat itself was trying to drag him down. Sweat clung to his skin, his shirt sticking uncomfortably to his back.

He hated this kind of weather as it was the kind that made the unbearable air of the city feel dreadfully suffocating and the world itself slowly closing in on him.

Spying a 7-Eleven up ahead, he ducked inside, the blast of air-conditioning hitting him like a long-awaited relief. The cool air settled over his skin as he grabbed a drink from the fridge which was iced coffee, his usual pick-me-up.

Just as he reached the counter, his phone buzzed.

"Bank Credit Received: 5000 PHP from Mom"

A small, relieved sigh escaped his lips. His mom never forgot.

The money wasn't much, but to him, it was a lifeline. She was still watching out for him despite the distance.

"UPCOMING PAYMENT DUE: EXAM FEES" And just like that, the moment passed.

His stomach twisted.

Shit.

The smile faded.

His grip on the iced coffee loosened. Half the money was already gone before he could even use it.

He glanced at the iced coffee in his hand, hesitating.

150 pesos.

It wasn't much, but in the grand scheme of things, it was another small luxury he couldn't afford.

With a quiet exhale, he put the coffee back and grabbed a cheaper soda and a bottle of water instead.

A small compromise. A familiar one.

At the counter, the cashier barely looked at him as she scanned his items. Ryan swiped his card, watching the remaining balance flash on the screen. It was a number smaller than he ever wanted.

Pushing the thoughts aside, he stepped back into the heat, twisting open his water bottle. The cold liquid didn't stop the gnawing weight in his chest.

Then, something caught his eye.

Or rather—someone.

Across the street, inside a quiet cafeteria, she sat alone. The girl from yesterday.

Ryan slowed his steps, eyes drawn to the scene beyond the glass window. She was hunched over a small table, surrounded by papers, books, and a laptop.

At first, her face was obscured by a mask, but as she got comfortable, she pulled it down and reached into her bag, slipping on a pair of thin-framed glasses. Ryan found himself staring.

It was her. The girl with the wolf-cut hair, the oversized black jacket, and the mismatched nails. Only now, without the mask, he could see her fully—and she was stunning. Not in a loud, obvious way.

Not the kind of beauty that turned heads in a crowded room. It was quieter than that. The kind that crept up on you, the kind that made you look twice. Her features were soft and sharp, her expression unreadable as she put on headphones and sank into her work.

Ryan blinked.

Was she always in his Chemistry class? He swore he would have noticed someone like her. His curiosity deepened, a strange, lingering feeling settling in his chest.

Then a shove from behind. Ryan stumbled forward, barely catching himself. "Shit, sorry, bro," someone muttered as they passed.

The moment was gone. Ryan exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. His phone buzzed.

"John: Drinks? We're at The Pits. Christine's here too.""

Ryan looked across the street once more. The girl never noticed him. He hesitated just for a second, but he swore that he would know the name that she won't say. But for now he turned away. Drinks sounded good right now.

Hours later after a grueling travel to his friend's luxurious mansion, He sat among familiar faces, the scent of alcohol, sweat, and cigarette smoke thick in the air.

His soda had long been replaced with beer, and the conversation had drifted into familiar territory: gossip, hookups, rumors. Christine, John's girlfriend, leaned back in her seat, twirling a cocktail stirrer between her fingers.

The name Christine Singson in their friend group was always associated with a sharp-tongued, effortlessly confident, and uptown woman who is always dressed in something that hugged her figure just right. Her long, wavy brown hair falling over her shoulders in loose waves, and her eyes held the kind of amusement that always meant she was stirring trouble.

She thrived on drama and the type to watch the world burn just for entertainment. And her lucky day has just arrived, for it might happen really soon. 

"You guys ever heard of Alters?" she mused, eyes shining with amusement.

Ryan took a slow sip of his drink. "Alters?" he asked,

"People who create completely different personas online. Some do it for fun, connection, others… well, let's just say they make a lot of money out of it."

"By doing what?" Kyle another friend of his raised a brow.

She shrugged. "Some became online courtesans and do sex work. Some do cam work, some sell exclusive content, and others… well, they cater to very rich clients who like a little mystery."

Ryan's stomach turned. He had heard about this before-- people making easy money through secret lives online. It was nothing new, but there was something about Christine's tone that unnerved him, like as if she's knowledgeable about the thing but makes it look like she isn't.

"Speaking of, have you guys ever heard of Meirou?" Kyle leaned in, intrigued.

"She's famous in certain circles. An online courtesan, strikingly beautiful, high-class, and supposedly loaded. Some say she got work done, but who knows? I actually met her once, briefly. She was gorgeous." She continued, swirling her drink,

Christine tapped through her phone and there she showed Kyle and Ryan, Meirou's timeline filled with NSFW content. Lingerie. Explicit captions. Private booking inquiries.

"Damn," Kyle exclaimed, taking a slow drag. "Didn't think she had it in her."

Ryan tapped his fingers lightly against the rim of his glass.

"Meirou, I think I heard that name before," Ryan muttered,

Something about the name felt… off. Not because he recognized it, but because it felt too familiar in a way he couldn't explain, as it is something connected to Alie.

Then, as if the universe wanted to make things worse, the conversation shifted to Alie.

Ryan felt his body tense, his grip on his drink tightening.

"Wasn't Alie friends with Meirou?" John asked.

"Oh, definitely. They were close for a while. No surprises there, honestly." Christine replies

Ryan forced a small, neutral smile.

He could feel their eyes on him, waiting for a reaction. But he wasn't going to give them one. Instead, he took another sip of his drink, letting the bitterness sit on his tongue.

Some ghosts weren't worth revisiting.