Caught in this whirlwind of chaos, I pondered my choices: pretend I was in a hurry and dash into the jeepney, or humor him and stop. Choices, choices. In the epic showdown between "Sidney vs. The Situation," my inner monologue escalated to a hilariously frantic pitch.
"Is it weird to stop? Maybe I should just smile and wave. Or should I power-walk like I'm on a mission? How do people do that cool 'I'm walking and not trying to escape' thing? Oh no, did I just smile like a psycho? Okay, just maintain eye contact, and—"
Auntie's voice sliced through my mental gymnastics, still managing to convey her wisdom while chomping on a chewy rice cake. "Rayden's practically at our doorstep, dear. Time to drop the theatrics. You're not fooling anyone. And, oh, don't forget, once the money starts rolling in, those bills are your new besties. Got it?" She punctuated her wisdom with an elbow nudge, a mischievous wink serving as a silent reminder that she could spend my future earnings before I did.
"Auntie, seriously? This soon? I haven't even said yes to anything!" I fired back, caught between the urgency of desperately needing a shower and the looming dread of facing Rayden, my personal embodiment of Murphy's Law. But wait, what if I became the queen of exit strategies? Shortcut through the backyard, dodge a couple of hedges, and I'd be free, right?
"Calm down, Sidney. We're not trying to outshine the sun here," Margo chimed in, her eyebrows ascending to new heights, her expression a masterpiece of disdain. Ah, yes, Margo and her trusty sidekick, Cynthia, loyal fans of Lovestruck and sworn haters of yours truly.
"Enough with the drama, you two. Get dressed, Rayden's almost on top of us. And Sidney, don't even think about executing a Houdini through the back door. It's locked, sealed, and guarded," Auntie declared with the authority of a lioness protecting her cubs. There goes my grand escape plan.
With a sprint-shower, I transformed into presentable-human-being attire—jeans that had seen more days than they cared to admit and a faded tee that probably had a few splattered coffee stains for extra character. My go-to ensemble for those low-effort days at uni where uniforms were just distant memories. Emerging from my room, I caught the tail end of Auntie's conversation with the show's producers.
"He can't squeeze into the car with the girls?" Auntie's voice was as sharp as a ninja star, cutting through the air like it was the final round of a verbal battle. Clearly, Auntie was prepared to go to war to ensure her daughters' royal treatment.
"I apologize, Mrs. Posit, but it's logistically not possible. They can join the convoy if you prefer," the producer replied, her tone soothing and understanding, as if she had a degree in pacifying infuriated aunts.
Auntie's double-handed clap released a gust of frustration. "Fine then, girls, chop-chop! And Sidney, snap out of that trance you're in. Oh, and remember, when that allowance hits your account, don't forget about the water and electricity bills," Auntie's look seemed to say, "I can already taste the wealth."
"Auntie, seriously? Pay up already? What if I haven't even given them an answer?" I quipped back, suppressing my annoyance as I toggled between plunging into the shower and staging a face-off with Mr. Irritating. On the other hand, what if I just vanished? Sneak out the back door, head for the jeep stop, and bid Lovestruck and its chaos farewell. There's a shortcut through the backyard that leads straight to the stop. Yes, my master plan!
"Cut it out, Sidney. That's not how you charm our Rayden," Margo interjected, her eyebrows now dancing in low orbit, her face an epitome of sourness. Ah, Margo and Cynthia, united in their worship of Lovestruck and their disdain for me.
"Both of you, enough. Get dressed, Rayden's practically knocking. Sidney, don't even think about sprinting through the back door—you're locked in," Auntie stated, her words landing like raindrops in a summer storm. Escape plan, deactivated.
Oh, wouldn't life just be a fairy tale if my dear old mom were still around? Her grand exit was like a masterclass in heartbreak. Our existence was all rainbows and unicorns, especially during her business escapades. Oh, the thrill of not knowing who my pops was! Seriously, it's not like knowing my biological origins would've made any difference, right? Why bother with trivial things like that?
She was like the Dumbledore of upbringing, guiding me through the maze of life. A solo act, just her and me against the world. Then, one fine morning, voila! She vanished into thin air. Just like that. A magic trick without the prestige. Oh, the cause of her magical disappearance? Nobody knows! Isn't that exciting? Like a real-life unsolved mystery!
And as if that wasn't enough excitement for one lifetime, enter my new leading cast: Aunt Posit and my merry band of cousins. Can you feel the enthusiasm? Living with them is like a front-row seat to a comedy show. Aunt Posit, the mastermind who could potentially put me up for sale if the price was right. Who knew family bonds were also negotiable? And my cousins, the daily dose of annoyance that keeps on giving. They're basically the icing on this crazy cake of life.
But hey, no complaints here. I've embraced this sitcom-worthy existence like a true champ. Who needs normalcy anyway?
As I approached the gate, now adorned with cameras like a festival's decoration, I felt like a character trapped in an absurd sitcom. Who needed this level of drama in their life, right? Stepping outside, ready to blend into the backdrop, the cameras unleashed a frenzy of flashes, blinding me momentarily. I let out an involuntary squeak, using my bag as a shield against the paparazzi-like assault, my pace increasing as I made a beeline for the jeep stop.
"The cameras are on her!" I caught a snippet of the director's excited instruction. But I kept my focus forward.
Capture the uncatchable, I snickered in my thoughts. Rounding the corner, the jeep stop greeted me like an oasis in the desert of chaos. But just as I was about to dive into the soothing waters of normalcy, a symphony of car horns sounded, and there he was—a shiny luxury car, basking in the sunlight. The camera flashes swarmed me like fireflies at a summer bonfire. And so it begins!
Frozen in the spotlight, I halted, the world around me stalling for a brief moment. The script called for my signature calm facade, but deep down, I was holding back laughter. It was a ballet of panic, mixed with a hint of excitement, and a splash of utter absurdity. Trying to suppress my grin, I maintained a neutral expression, pretending I didn't even know he was there, all while my heart galloped like it was racing in the Kentucky Derby.
And then he spoke, his voice a blend of uncertainty and urgency: "H-Hey!"
I pretended not to hear, continuing to walk like a true professional. But he wasn't giving up that easily. A notch louder, his voice carried a mix of surprise and urgency: "Hey, Sidney! Wait up!"
I tuned him out, playing my part with the grace of a seasoned actor, all the while grappling with a hilarious whirlwind of emotions—panic, curiosity, and an unexpected tinge of excitement. A beat later, his voice pierced the air again, louder this time:
"Hey, Sidney! Wait!" His words reverberated with enough force to break glass, attracting the attention of every living creature within a five-mile radius.