'I wish God gave me a 30 second trailer of this person at least I would've been prepared to deal with him.' Hazels' eyes drift throughout the library just like her thoughts; she really prefers to be at home right now but she cant. She is "working" right now as a tutor for her classmate; her eyes shifted back and checked on Michael.

Finger tapping, head scratching and pen biting; the signs are clear. Michael had already forgot everything, and this is the third time Hazel taught him the same lesson they had earlier in the classroom.

'How did the "Brightest" politician have a son so dim?'

Michael Rivera the son of the soon to be "President" Vice president Leonardo Rivera. The VP who won the heart of the people by exposing the President of giving the public false information, fraud and drug trafficking; he then shut down every business it had. As per the law it should have been a capital punishment; however he swooned and melted the heart of the pople by such compassion thus calling him a "Saint".

"Hey . . . . Hazel? Um . . Could you teach me again this part?" he tried to smile his way out but Hazel is already giving him a disgruntled look while checking as to where his finger is pointing.

As she rephrased the words for Michael she twirls the pen around her fingers; it moved between each finger as if it was liquid.

"Why do you even bother to graduate with flying colours? You're from a well off family already." The twirling stops and continued after a mere second.

"You've already won at life Michael, what more do you want?"

Michael is a big man but the way Hazel asked the question made him feel small. He straightened his back in an attempt to assert confidence and cleared his throat to hide the intimidation he felt. Nonetheless Hazel wasn't looking at her anyway.

"Well, I am the son of Leonardo Rivera the soon to be President. I must be a good example and model also to the people like my father."

"You reply as if you're the one who is going to be president." Hazel snickered.

"Their eyes are going to be on me as well. They may sooner find a fault in my family but that shouldn't and wouldn't be me." The sternness of his voice somehow seemed like desperation to Hazel; a boy hoping and praying perhaps that he will not be the cause of the downfall.

"You know what Michael it's getting late" her hand pointing with the pen on the window "Let's wrap this up for today and to make things easier for you I'll lend you my notes about the lesson earlier." Passing him her notes "I'll get that tomorrow since we will continue this tomorrow as well." 'This guy thinks thinks as if the world would really revolve now around them; I guess you don't have to be bright to be in this school anymore. As long as you have money and influence you can be whoever you want to be.'

"I guess see you tom–" she walked at a pace that Michael didn't have a chance to say goodbye to her.

Whenever Michael see Hazel walk out as they have finished their session he always feel that there is a vast sea between him and her. It's been 2 years since Hazel started as a tutor for Michael since she is the university's scholar student but within those years Michael can clearly see that time is still between them; time moved forward but they stayed the same.

The next day, as Michael walks to their classroom he notices that everyone's eyes in the room is following him. 'Did I do something wrong?' before he could collect his thoughts his elite friends swarmed at him.

"Why do you still keep on tutoring her Michael? She is already a scholarship student, she should work hard for it. Don't you think you're giving her a stepping stone?"

He gave a puzzling look "What do you mean?"

"We saw you teaching her at the library making her repeat the same topic three times. For a scholar she's kinda dumb that she needs to repeat it multiple times to get it."

"Huh? Oh you mean yesterday?" He suddenly broke a cold sweat "Well I would like to help her keep her scholarship you know, it's the only thing that's keeping her here. I mean, like my father I would like to help everyone who are in need"

His friends opened their mouth in awe; as if he is a saint as well.

"You're being too nice again Michael. Don't let her abuse you." Says one

"Sometimes I believe your family is a family of Saints." Says another

He just smiled at them and asked them to return to their seats, as the swarm disperse around him he could clearly see Hazel at the back of the room. Her gaze pierced across the room that gave a chill on his spine, like a knife on his throat.

Time seemed to pass slowly as every minute lasted like years. Guilt consumed him but he would rather feel guilt by telling a lie than knowing he is not the perfect son everyone thought him to be. His father wouldn't like that.

When class came to finish, Hazel tapped him in the back.

"Hey, let's go to the library already."

He flinched and felt his palms sweat but he clenched his fist and gently smiled at her.

"No worries. Let me go ahead and pack up real quick."

He hurriedly scooped his stuff into the bag and walked with her. While on the hallway he can't help feeling embarrassed, 'Hazel didn't know or heard about it anyway; why am I acting so awkward?' He thought for himself. Apologize only when deemed guilty.

They sat on the end of the library by the window, the statue of the university founder is seen when you peer through it. This isn't their usual seat, it was always near the exit as Hazel doesn't like any small inconvenience in her life.

"Why are we seating here?" giving Hazel a puzzled look.

She took a deep breath and sighed. "Why do you think?" she answered back.

"Well, I don't know. I wouldn't ask you if I know already."

"True, true" she nod in agreement 'If only your muscles were the size of your brain none of this is necessary' she then scanned the surroundings as if she is a fugitive in meeting afterwards she sat back down and continued.

She then stood up on her seat and placed her hands on the table.

"Well it seems that you are ashamed of being dumb and so we sat here so we would minimize the chance of them knowing that. I'll try to keep up with your lie but–" she leaned in closer and yanked his tie staring him eye to eye

"Never ever state such words that makes me like a charity work. If I hear such words again best of you to let another tutor know you're like a rock absorbing knowledge."

"Yes ma'am" he sat up straight like a spring in a box, he thought there is no way that Hazel would have heard that. For some reason he felt like he talked to his dad, but this time it didn't felt like an order but more like a request.

"Well great, now that's settled lets continue shall we?"

Hazel acted as if she didn't warned Michael just a few seconds ago and continued to teach Michael. Time flew by like a hummingbirds wingbeat, even though they were next to the window they didn't felt the suns ray go down.

The whole time Michael kept glancing at Hazel as she talks; he noticed that she never really looks at him either at his work or on their surroundings. The only time was when she warned him, and her grey eyes looked like there was a storm inside it. He wanted Hazel to look at him again, but this time bit for that reason.

As they are walking out the building Michael feel compelled to apologize for his sudden action. For those 2 years of Hazel teaching him, he noticed that that Hazel never asked him about anything, of his status. In front of Hazel is the son of the next leader of the country doesn't she ever bear such interest as to what its like nor at least ask him about anything at all.

"Uhm . . . H-Hazel, I uhm. . .uh" he stammered at his words

"What is it? Would like me to clarifying anything from our lesson?" she then walked at his pace beside him, still not making any eye contact.

"I would just like to apologize for earlier." he can feel his heart go up his throat as he continued "I know that this doesn't make me a better person in your eyes but–"

"You have to be the perfect son, right?" interrupting his words. "Your dad is a brilliant man and so should you be. It's not like you are being forced to do so correct?"

He would really like to apologize and mean it seems that his words can only reach so far to the tip of his tongue. His lips pressed together and let out a sigh. "Yes, you're right." looking down to the ground.

"Just avoid those topic whenever you can. It's hard to cover up a lie if it will always linger" she then tiptoed and pat his head. Michael was taken aback at the sudden action. Hazel then turned around "I'll be going then." and started to walk away.

Hazel took one more glance at him as she walks away; to her surprise Michael was standing behind her, he grabbed her arm by the sleeve. A deep soft voice then broke the silence "I still have something to say."

"Oh okay, what is it?" Hazel asked as she subtly pulls her arm away from him.

"I truly hope you can forgive me; people just have so much expectations from me that I can't keep up."

She then looked up to him, meeting his eyes. "Of course, you just did what you have to do." her voice says pity as the words came out. His eyes was teary but subsided as he saw tranquillity on Hazels' grey eyes. "Thank you" those were the words that he could only say. As she walks away, Michael still see a distance between them but this time he felt a bit closer now. Or is he? Did the storm now subsided in her eyes?

As Hazel walks on her way home she keeps only muttering curses under her breath; bitterness was left in her tongue as she remember every word she said to him.

'People just have so much expectations from me that I can't keep up? Well screw you.' Her eyes went suddenly teary as she remembers how her parents lost there jobs as the "Saint" closed every "corrupt business" the president had, that is actually a program; but after doing that did he do something to make up those who lost their jobs? None. People were only given a severance pay that couldn't even buy scrap.

No news documented the aftermath, about the protest of the jobs that was lost; what happened to those people. What happened to those that almost dedicated their whole life to that job.

Her dad greeted her with a warm smile "So how was uni today?"

"It was fine, nothing new for today." she then placed her bag on the floor and assisted her dad set up the table for dinner.

"You have work tomorrow?" she asked as she place the plates and utensils

"Well no ones gonna fix electronics around this neighbourhood if I don't." he jokingly said. It still breaks her heart for her to hear that, her father could still have work as a mechanic, but its hard to find a job for people almost at their 60's;. If only he didn't lost that job, his telltales about being a mechanic wouldn't sound like a reminisce about the glory days.

Her dad went to her pinching both of her cheeks "Hey, stop doing that. We are not dying of hunger." Eyes lit up in surprise at her dad's actions "What did I do?!" hands still pinching her cheeks.

"You're giving a sour expression that's not good." he then placed his hands on her shoulder. "Don't rush to much to help. Just keep doing things at your own pace, that's how I want you to grow." he paused for a moment and as he continued his voice trembled "That's what your mother would want for you too."

Of course, how would she be able to forget that? It's etched in her memory. Its in bold, highlighted, italicised and perhaps underscored as well like a sentence on her notes that was told to be on the test. The memory of her mother laying down on the hospital bed and getting used to the smell of alcohol looming in the air. Her mother stayed there for so long already that she calls it her second home. The sound of the monitor fills the room like a pendulum slowly turning still. Her mother lies like a newborn child about to slowly cradled to sleep, forever to dream. Her mother notices her and gestures her to come closer "How's your day?" a cracking in her voice can be heard.

Hazel spoke and told her stories about her first visit in the uni; how she was praised for her knowledge and was given the recognition throughout the whole school. She talked as if they were just at a dinner table, she didn't want her mother feel like brain cancer is now eating its body.

As she continues her story, the sound of the monitor seems to be dawdling further and further. Her mothers eyes getting heavier and heavier, as soon as she turned around to look for her dad it was already gone screaming for a nurse.

As her vision got blurry with waters in her eyes, her mother reached for hand one more time.

"Smile starchild, I'm not going anywhere." like a gentle fleeting melody her mother said those words; a song that got stuck on Hazel's mind that plays on and on and on when her mind wanders in a distance. The once warmth that her put to sleep now became cold like a chill that wakes her up at night; her mother now slumbers. She cried for days as if the sea didn't have enough salt in its waters.

'I wish that didn't happen, my father never made me want to think that we could have prevented it if we have the money the first time my mother felt such symptoms. He doesn't want to show that we were incapable, as mother never wanted us to blame ourselves for what happened.'

'I then pinched my father's cheeks as he is still looking at the huge picture of us in living room wall. It was there for as long as I remember. One time I asked him as to why he likes to place it there and not on perhaps any other place, as it is quite embarrassing to have the neighbours passing by see it.'

He just simply smiled to me and replied that he wants to come back home and see the reason why he is working hard; and that what makes him look forward for tomorrow.

"Hey pops, whats for dinner?"

"Aye!" He then swatted my hands and snickered

"Bitter gourd with eggs, you're favourite zel" he laughs as he sees my disfavoured expression

"You know me so well" I laughed as well and started grabbing a bunch. I regretted that decision but seeing my father smile as I eat a lot is what I'll always prefer. As I try to ease my stomachache, I find myself looking through the window. Thinking how would our life be if my parents had their jobs before and did not almost lost it all.

The word "if" always goes through my head; what could have happened 'if' they still had there old jobs as a mechanic and an office file keeper none of this would've happen; 'if' we didn't almost lost it all my mother wouldn't have ignored her symptoms due to financial concerns and would find out about her brain tumour that turned cancer.

3 years still seemed like a fresh wound or perhaps a scab that she touches way too often thus almost never healing, she then turns to her bed and pulls out a box beneath it, and inside was her mothers stuff. Hazel still couldn't bear to throw them all away, old clothes, used pen, pencils and even her mother's work papers are there. As she skims through them all with a heavy heart a folder falls out of the box. She wipes her blurry to see it clearly in her dim lit room; it didn't look unusual until she saw a familiar name " Leonardo Rivera" she mumbled to herself.

Her eyes then searched for more information about the paper she is holding; it was a donation form. That's odd the vice president said that he had no deals or any form of support provided to the Presidents "Programs" since he felt something wrong the first year he saw its "rapid" progress. Her hands started rummaging for more and her eyes started seeking answers for its curiosity, only to find a log stating that the VP has been funding it since day one.

Hazel found herself smiling as she looks through the papers. "Now this is what we call false information deemed worthy of capital punishment" she thought to herself. Her hands moved in quick succession as she sorted out and arranged the documents again back to the folder, as she places them back she felt a slight budge, as if something is getting wrinkled inside, it was an envelope.

"What more could be brought to the table," with a grin she opened it and found a cheque inside, as she looked to through the contents, her heart sank. The tension and exhilaration she felt turned to an ice cold, her eyes slowly read the content of the cheque one last time. Ten million with her mother as the recipient and Leonardo as the payer along with it is a note that states 'Please keep this to yourself, I will hunt you down if this gets out'

Questions started swarming her mind, if her mother was a part of it. Why such secret over it all? Does her father know about this? Oh how she she wished the dead could speak. Her body then felt a chill and erased such thoughts, she looked at her mothers picture and said "Kidding," and continued to tuck away the folder along with the envelope on her drawer. The questions though still remained in her head., how is she going to find the answers to such thoughts; a grand puzzle is laid in front and she doesn't know how to start. Where is the first piece to start getting and form the picture? Her mother's dead and the soon to be President is pretty much untouchable.

The wrinkles in her forehead disappeared and transferred to her lips that formed an awry smile. She found her first puzzle piece and what delight she felt as she hugged her pillow and closed her eyes to sleep. "Michael" she said with a giggle as if it was infatuation that made her heart skip. As her mind then wanders and float and started swaying she only wished for Michael to start praying.