The lights are drawing his eyes like the moths that circle it. He wonders what allure does the light pose to these creatures that they will dive even to a flame.
He tapped his pocket for a cigarette.
He found one.
The last one.
He took out his lighter and raised it to the moths.
"Come here, idiots. Burn yourselves," he grimly thought.
He felt like they were alike. He came from one of the harshest burns of his young life. Not that it will be the last.
Nor will it be the worst.
He doesn't know it yet but his future is a burning trail.
He smiled bitterly and lighted his cigarette.
The lights on the ceiling of the bus station flickered and he felt like someone was looking at him.
He discreetly looked around as if watching the smoke from his cigarette, playing with it with his fingers, making it dance and coil as it dissipated into the air.
There were several people sitting on the benches but none that looked suspicious.
If anything, he was the suspicious one.
He laughed inwardly at that.
There was never anyone that trusted him. He can't blame them. Even he didn't trust himself.
He sighed and plopped back into the bench. Not that he had anything worth stealing.
Except maybe for the guitar. He tapped its hardcase and drummed an incoherent rhythm.
In his life, this may be the only thing he ever loved except for the girl in the flower shop.
Or the girl in his school. The cute one with the hello kitty backpack.
Or the girl who gave her his latest burn. He giggled like crazy and immediately stopped himself and glanced if anyone noticed.
One elderly man was looking at him with suspicious regard.
There's a familiar look. He giggled again and looked the other way.
His cigarette is almost spent. He flicked it at the nearby trash bin; missed and got up to properly dispose of it.
So much for wanting to look cool.
The next bus is not yet due for another 10 minutes.
He took out the guitar and began strumming lightly.
The melodious tinkle of those chords were carried by the air towards the person who was looking at him earlier. That person closed her eyes and let the sonorous melody cover the melancholic silence of the bus station.
The young man stopped playing for a while and looked steadily at the name painted on the guitar's body.
Vince.
He flipped it over in the air and played again when it landed.
The song he was playing was a new song. It was never played before. Not in this world but in another.
He didn't know how he knew the song. He just played it like it's the most natural thing in the world.
It was the song he played for the girl he went to visit.
They met online and she seemed like the nicest, most beautiful girl ever. She did not want to meet at first but after he insisted, she reluctantly agreed to meet.
He got a haircut to prepare for the meeting. He even spent the money he was saving to buy a violin for a new shirt.
"Where are you going again, pendejo?" His uncle was always nasty so this kind of language didn't bother him anymore.
"Out," he said simply and that appeared to irritate him even more.
"Take out the trash and wash the dishes first, cabron." The bastard didn't care that he had already put on nice clothes.
He nodded and quietly went to the kitchen to take out the trash bags. He didn't want another argument that could get him another black eye.
Not today. He is going to meet a special lady.
He glanced inside before going out and saw him taking a big gulp out of a whiskey bottle.
He discreetly went out and flung the trash bags near the door.
He hurriedly took the guitar case he earlier leaned against the veranda fences.
The little dogs were barking in the distance as he ran away laughing.
The flowers were a little on the cheap side.
There was nothing left from his savings except bus money.
The little planner he kept in his head was blank after the words: give her the flowers and sing.
It doesn't matter. Things have a way of going in the right direction once in a while.
The cafe was a little expensive for his taste or maybe his wallet and he was hesitant to get inside but when he saw her in that low-cut red dress that left nothing to the imagination, he forgot that he was poor or shy.
"Hi. I'm Vince." He gave her the flowers.
She looked hard at them and gestured that he put them on the table. Her smile looked more like a grimace but it didn't bother him.
He is here, she is here. After they've talked for a while, she is sure to come around.
"Look, I really don't have much time…" she began.
"Wait...wait. Let me just give you one more thing." He fumbled at the latch of his guitar case.
Her eyes bulged in horror as she realized that he was going to make a scene.
She signalled for somebody to come over but the ones she beckoned - a group of teenagers in a corner table didn't move.
They were trying so hard to contain their laughter.
"Hey..uhm, Vince? I really have to go. I am sorry…"
He already has his guitar and in his nervous state, he wouldn't even notice if this whole cafe would blow up.
He started singing, his voice pleasant enough and the music from his guitar is good that some customers started looking at their direction.
An elderly couple even started clapping in delight at the scene.
The girl was on the verge of panic. All her friends are openly grinning now.
They definitely won't let her live this down. She only agreed to meet because he looked a little cute but she didn't expect him to be this weird.
Vince is now on the chorus and although the listeners didn't know the song - it was in a foreign language, they were mesmerized and the whole cafe seemed to be suspended in time at that moment.
Except for the girl.
In her panic, she grabbed the soda she was drinking earlier and poured it all on the self-absorbed singer.
That broke the magic and the cafe exploded in mingled laughter and sounds of dismay.
She grabbed her purse and stepped over Vince who tumbled backwards to the floor in surprise.
He was hugging the guitar in fear of breaking it against the floor.
He protected his guitar but not his heart. His eyes showed confusion and shame as he looked around.
Most of the people there avoided his gaze and he slowly got up and walked out.
A group of teenagers was hurriedly going out and one of them shoved him against the door.
He was beyond caring.
He milled around for a while and decided that it was time to go back.
Go back where?
He didn't wanna go back to that miserable house. His misery will most likely be multiplied.
That was why it took him this long to decide whether to get on a bus or not.
Maybe he will just take a random one.
"Go west."
He was startled by the sound. A girl in a dark cloak suddenly appeared beside him.
She wore a mask on the lower part of her face but he can see that she has piercing blue eyes. The prettiest he had ever seen.
"Go west? Isn't that an old song?" he incredulously shot back.
"No, you idiot. You have the mark of the 'Kampilan'. Take a bus west."
With that, she disappeared in a wisp of smoke that smelled peculiarly of vanilla and chocolate.
"Whoa! Did you see that?!" he asked the elderly man who was looking at him earlier but he now appeared to be sleeping.
He must be trippin. THAT is one hell of a dream. He didn't even notice that he fell asleep.
He got up and as soon as he did, a bus stopped and opened its door.
The sound of the hydraulics hissing were like giant snakes that came to devour him
He shuddered.
After a minute of staring at the bus mutely, he decided that he was planning to get on a random bus anyway.
He put his guitar back in the case and hoisted it.
The inside of the bus was cold and he shivered.
'It's like a giant coffin.'
Now, that is a scary thought. He went straight to the back. There was no one else inside and he felt the insane compulsion to scream and go out running.
He was about to do that when a girl older than him (but not by much) slowly got in.
She was limping a little and she looked tired. She took an empty seat a few rows away from him.
The bus sounded its horn and as he heard the doors hissed close, he saw two more people went inside in a hurry.
Outside were a group of boys his age that seemed to want to get in.
As the bus started to leave, several of them flipped the bus the finger.
He weakly laughed. They must be so desperate to get in.
"Fuck you too, boys," he whispered.
The last to get in were a middle-aged guy and a little girl who looked so much younger than him.
'Father and daughter,' he thought and he looked out the window.
It was now fully dark and stars were beginning to rise in the cloudless sky.