Chapter 3: The Guy in Distance

I snapped back to reality when Razen held my waist.

"You know him, Babe?" he whispered. While still looking at the guy, I shook my head and turned to him.

"No, Babe," I replied with a smile. He smiled back and gave me a quick kiss on the lips.

We took a few more pictures together, and I posted them on Instagram.

I glanced back at the guy—and was shocked to see he was still staring at me. I pretended nothing happened and waited for our food.

When our food finally arrived, I started eating. I ignored the guy since I was already starving.

Razen and I just talked about how my day went while eating.

"You were amazing, Babe," he said when he heard about my recitation earlier.

"Silly, that was in Criminal Law 2. It was a basic question," I said as I took a bite of the pork we ordered.

"She's still bothering you, huh?"

I rolled my eyes. "Who? Your Ex? What's new? She really hates me."

He just chuckled and continued eating. After we finished, I went to the restroom to retouch my makeup. I didn't see that guy again—maybe he left while I was away.

After dinner, I checked the time—it was almost 10 PM, so Razen drove me home.

"Bye, Babe. Take care, okay? Thank you for today," I said, kissing him on the cheek, waving goodbye, and entering the house.

As soon as I entered the house, I was welcomed by loud laughter and chatter inside.

Yeah, I know what that means.

"Do we have visitors, Manang?" I asked one of our maids, and she immediately nodded.

"Oh yes, your father's friend is here. Mayor Manzano."

Fuck, it's Mayor Manzano again.

He's one of my Dad's friends—well, when it comes to politics, everyone's his friend. But this one? He's the worst of them all.

He's a fucking maniac, to be exact—especially his son.

"Great. What a nice day," I muttered as I walked inside.

"Ah, Manang, can you put this in my room, please?" I handed the bouquet to her and went further inside.

"Oh, my daughter is here. Come here, Victoria," Dad said as I smiled fakely and approached them.

I casually wore my fake smile as I greeted them. "Hello, good evening, Mayor." I greeted politely and did the usual gesture of respect as he and his son looked at me in a creepy way.

"Hi, Marga,"

Fuck that nickname. I've never been a fan of my third name. Whenever someone calls me that, all I can think about is the Filipino food ginaret.

It just sounds insulting.

"Hey, Darco." I smiled and was about to walk away when he suddenly hugged me. "I missed you."

Fuck.

I looked at my dad, and he signaled me to just let him—or go along with this guy's drama. I just tapped his shoulder and pulled away.

"I… I missed you too, Darco," I said, forcing a fake smile. To escape the situation, I came up with an excuse. "If you'll excuse me, I'll go to my room to rest—it's been a long day." They agreed, so I took the opportunity to leave.

I woke up as early as 8:00 AM, changed my clothes, and drove straight to the gym. The gym isn't that far from the house—around a 10-minute drive. I just grabbed my things and entered, scanning my membership card.

I started warming up on the treadmill to prevent any muscle or body pain after my workout. I have class later in the afternoon, and we don't have any case recitations—just a minor discussion—so I have time to work out.

After warming up, I started my workout. I picked up a 20kg dumbbell and did squats for 25 reps. It's my glutes and quads day. I spent the whole morning exercising for at least three hours.

I checked the time—it was already 11:00 AM. I wiped off my sweat and was about to drink from my tumbler when I noticed it was empty. So, I went to refill it, and while I was at the water station, someone approached me.

"Hi, Miss. I always see you here, but you never talk to anyone. Are you single? I'm Kiko, by the way—and you are?"

I just looked at him, drank my water, and walked away.

"Hey, Miss," I heard him call me again, but I completely ignored him. As I walked away, I heard someone else approach him.

"Busted right away, huh," his friend said.

"Too bad, she's sexy though," I overheard as I left and headed straight to the restroom to shower. After that, I changed and packed my things.

While walking out of the gym, something caught my attention. The guy working out and lifting dumbbells on my right side—wait, he looks familiar?

As I looked closer, it was the guy from the restaurant yesterday—the one in the business suit. So he works out here too? How come I've never seen him before?

He was training really well and focused, listening to music through his AirPods. Then, all of a sudden—

"Miah!" I heard two guys call out as they passed in front of me. Maybe they saw someone coming his way, so he turned in my direction.

"Sup, bro." He put down the dumbbell he was lifting and greeted the guys who approached him.

I noticed he glanced at me and smiled, so I quickly looked away and walked out of the gym.

What the fuck, he just caught me staring at him for the second fucking time.

I had just left the gym and was on my way home when hunger suddenly hit me. I made a quick turn and drove to the nearest McDonald's for a drive-thru meal.

As I rolled down my window, the scent of fries and burgers greeted me.

"Hi, one McChicken burger with fries and one order of McChicken Nuggets," I said.

"For drinks, ma'am?" the crew member asked politely.

"Just iced tea," I replied.

I paid, took my order, and got back on the road. The radio played something upbeat, but it only made the silence in my head louder. The scent of fries filled the car, but my appetite had already faded.

As I turned onto the main avenue, I slowed instinctively. Up ahead, I recognized the familiar gray building—my dad's company headquarters. Sleek. Modern. Guarded like a fortress.

But this time, something was different.

A crowd had gathered outside, loud and chaotic. Placards waved in the air like weapons. People shouted with a kind of pain that couldn't be faked—raw, furious, full of fire.

I rolled my window halfway down.

"Kick him out! Kick him!"

"Oligario corrupt!"

"Senator Xyrus is a thief!"

Their voices were hoarse from shouting, but they didn't stop. Sweat dripped down their faces, yet they stood under the sun, unbothered by the heat. Their signs were handmade—some on cardboard, some on old wood—scrawled in marker and paint.

A security guard yelled, "Leave this place!"

But the crowd didn't move. If anything, they shouted louder, stepping closer to the barricades.

And then, through the sea of protest, I saw him.

My father. Senator Xyrus Vince Oligario.

He emerged from the building in a crisp barong, shoulders squared, chin raised, walking like a man untouched by scandal. His bodyguards trailed behind him like a silent army, forming a wall between him and the people.

"There's Senator Xyrus! Return the people's money!" someone shouted.

He didn't flinch. He didn't pause. He didn't even glance at them.

He just walked to his car, got in, and left—just like that. As if their pain didn't exist.

As if they didn't exist.

Typical.

That's who my dad is.

I was about to drive away when I heard a shout, louder than the rest:

"Isn't that Senator Oligario's daughter?"

I froze.

My heart jumped into my throat as a few people turned and looked straight at me. Their eyes widened—not with recognition, but with fury.

They started toward my car. Fast.

I panicked and rolled my window up, slamming my foot on the gas. Tires screeched as I sped off, my pulse pounding in my ears.

I should've left earlier. I should've known better.

Even as I drove away, I could still hear them—screaming, demanding justice, desperate to be heard.

And the worst part?

They weren't wrong.

I let out a long, shaky breath as I turned into a quieter road. My hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly, my knuckles had turned white.

This wasn't new.

Protests had become part of our lives. They showed up at press conferences, charity events, even at my high school graduation once. There was no such thing as privacy—not with the Oligario name attached to mine.

And honestly… I couldn't blame them.

Knowing my dad, I'd probably be out there too—if I weren't his daughter.

If I weren't locked inside this life he built for me. Or rather, built around me.

He used to be different.

Back when he was mayor, he visited barangays, gave out relief goods, smiled in photo ops with real sincerity. People respected him. My classmates used to envy me for having a dad like him.

I used to admire him too.

Until things started changing.

Power. Wealth. Influence.

Then maybe family.

If he had time.

When he became governor, the stories started.

The allegations in drugs, corruption, misuse of public funds. And still, he smiles like none of it matters.

"Development projects" that funneled millions into shell companies.

When Mom would see the news, she'd scoff, saying, "They're just jealous. Your father is a threat to their power." It's just propaganda—lies spread by his enemies to destroy him. Maybe that was true at first. But now?

Now, as a senator, the scandals only grew. Drug money allegedly cleaned through infrastructure budgets. Hospitals built on paper that never existed in real life. Public funds diverted during the pandemic.

People died. Real people. People with names and families and dreams.

And yet, every time he was asked about it, my father simply smiled and said,

"Baseless rumors. I serve the people with integrity."

Funny how he says that with a straight face—

as if integrity was something he ever recognized, and not just a word he learned to weaponize.