The door swung open, and Riri stood there, her eyes wide with panic, breath ragged. It was the last thing I expected. I had just finished a meeting and was ready for some quiet, but there she was, looking more fragile than I'd ever seen her.
"Riri?" I said, my voice soft but deliberate, letting a hint of concern slip through the mask I kept tightly in place. "What happened?"
She stepped in, her gaze darting around, like she was looking for something—anything—to ground her. She sank onto the couch, her shoulders heavy, like the weight of whatever she was carrying had become too much. I closed my laptop, shifting my focus entirely to her. Whatever was going on, I wasn't about to let it mess up my evening, but I wasn't heartless. Not entirely.
"Talk to me," I said, leaning back and watching her. I had the patience to wait. "What's going on?"
She looked down, her fingers tugging through her hair, her voice barely a whisper. "I... I got fired today."
The words weren't surprising, but they did hit a nerve. Riri had always been a dreamer, always chasing some ideal. And this job—it was more than just work to her. It was her thing. A career she'd put everything into. A career she thought would finally prove to the world that she could make it on her own, without the crutch of anyone else. And now? It was gone.
I let the silence linger for a moment, gauging her reaction before responding. "You're disappointed, I see that." I kept my tone neutral, more interested in the strategy than the emotion. "But it's not the end of the world, Riri. It's a setback, that's all."
Her face twisted with frustration, like she was battling a flood of emotions that refused to stay contained. "They're cutting projects. The studio's downsizing, and I was one of the first to go. They said it wasn't personal, but it feels like everything I've worked for was taken from me. Just like that."
I tilted my head slightly, considering her. "Riri, you're not the first to be let go. This happens to people who don't have control over their careers, and you're not helpless. You'll figure this out."
She looked at me, her eyes brimming with the anger she didn't want to express. "How can you be so... calm? This was my dream, Kei. I gave everything to this. And now... now it's gone. Just like everything else."
I didn't flinch. "You didn't fail. The studio failed you. If they couldn't see your worth, then that's their loss. But don't confuse this one thing with your entire career. You've been through worse. You'll come out of this stronger. The question is—how badly do you want to rebuild?"
She exhaled sharply, staring at the floor like she was searching for something. "I don't even know where to start. It's like I've lost everything I've ever cared about. And I can't go back to Dad's. I won't."
The words were vulnerable, raw in a way I wasn't used to from her. I reached over and placed my hand on her shoulder, a gesture that could be comforting if I wanted it to be, but I wasn't here to baby her. "You're not going back there, and you're not going to dwell on it. Stay here. Figure things out in your own time. But understand this, Riri—you've never been alone in this. You won't start now."
She looked at me with red-rimmed eyes, uncertainty flickering in her expression. "Are you sure? I feel like I'm falling apart, and I don't want to be a burden."
"You're not a burden." I kept my voice steady, controlled, like everything else. "You're my sister. You're staying here. We'll work this out, step by step. You don't need to go through this alone."
There was a pause, and then she managed a weak smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. But there was a flicker of hope in it. "Thanks, Kei. I just... I don't know how to move forward."
I leaned back, eyes steady. "Riri, you've survived worse. This won't break you. You might feel like everything's slipping away, but it's just a chapter. You're not as fragile as you look right now."
She nodded, but I could tell she wasn't fully buying it. It didn't matter. I wasn't here to fix her. I was here to make sure she didn't let this define her. The rest was up to her.
"Riri," I said after a moment, "you've been climbing this ladder for so long, and one fall doesn't take away all the steps you've already taken. This is just another setback— one chapter. You'll find your way out of this. You always do."
She looked up at me, a little stronger now, though still unsure. "Thanks, Kei. I don't know where I'd be without you."
"Wherever you are, you'll be fine," I replied, with just enough care to keep her from feeling completely abandoned. "Just remember, you're not going to fail. You'll figure it out."
As the silence stretched between us, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction. Riri was wounded, yes, but she would bounce back. She wasn't weak—just unprepared for this. I'd be here, guiding her through it, making sure she stayed on the path I knew would lead her to where she needed to go.
—
A few days had passed since Riri had come over. She was still stumbling through the aftermath of her job loss, trying to pick up the pieces of a life that seemed to have fractured without warning. She wasn't quite back to her old self, but she was trying, at least. I could see her beginning to fall into a new routine—one that didn't require too much of her, but enough to keep up the appearance of moving forward.
She hadn't moved in with me, still clinging to the idea that she could handle things on her own. She was staying at her apartment, though I was finding it difficult to keep her away from mine. We'd been spending more time together, but not in the way I'd imagined. Late-night talks, ordering food to avoid the responsibility of cooking—it was all very familiar. She needed me, and I'd given her just enough of my attention to make sure she knew she wasn't alone, but not enough to make her feel entirely safe. In the meantime, she'd taken up tutoring international students in English—a small gig, flexible, nothing too demanding. Just a way to pass the time and keep herself afloat while she figured out her next big break. I had no doubt she'd figure it out. She always did.
I sat in the living room that evening, my laptop open in front of me, answering emails for my mom's business. My mind was on a dozen things—none of them particularly urgent, but enough to keep me occupied. That's when my phone buzzed on the coffee table. I glanced over, expecting a client, but saw an unfamiliar number. The name that followed it, though, made me pause.
Aeri Chandria Li
I hadn't seen or spoken to Aeri in months, but just the sight of her name brought a rush of memories—good ones. Aeri was everything Riri wasn't: calm, thoughtful, grounded. She was the type of person who could make anyone feel like they mattered without even trying. Quiet, introverted, but with a strength to her that was almost unspoken. Aeri was a few years older than me and had been working as a lawyer in a prestigious firm in the U.S. for years now. She had the life everyone admired—her career, her partner, their stability. I hadn't heard from her in ages, but apparently, she was back in the Philippines.
I opened the message with a smile.
"Hey, Kei! It's been ages! I'm back in the Philippines for a bit and would love to catch up with you and Riri. Let's go out tonight. My treat. What do you say?"
I didn't even hesitate. It was just the kind of distraction Riri needed—something familiar, something grounding. Aeri's calm presence was like a balm to all of Riri's chaos. I closed my phone and called out to Riri, who was in the kitchen, nursing her drink in her usual distracted way.
"Hey, guess who just texted me?"
She raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Who?"
"Aeri. She's back from the U.S. and wants to take us out tonight. She's in the mood for a girls' night."
Riri's eyes lit up. "Aeri's back? Oh, it's been way too long." She paused, then added with a slight edge to her voice, "Absolutely, I'm down. I could use a distraction."
Her eagerness was almost palpable. I knew Riri well enough to see the relief in her eyes, but I wasn't going to call attention to it. She needed this, and I knew just how to make sure she understood the value of having Aeri around—without ever saying it aloud. Aeri had a way of making people feel like they mattered, and for someone as lost as Riri, that would be the perfect temporary fix.
I quickly tapped out a reply to Aeri, confirming that we'd be there. As soon as I hit send, I turned to Riri, letting her settle into the idea. She was already starting to change into something more suitable for a night out—her usual effort to look casual, but still put-together enough to keep the façade of being fine.
I didn't need to say much; the excitement in the air was enough to stir something in her.
A few minutes later, we were ready. Riri's energy had shifted, but I could tell it wasn't real excitement—just a temporary escape. As we made our way out, I considered the evening ahead. It was strange how easily Aeri's calm presence could help Riri feel better about herself. But I knew the underlying truth—this wouldn't solve anything. No night out could undo the damage she was still grappling with.
But it would give her a moment to breathe, to forget. And I, of course, would be there to keep her in line, to ensure that when the night ended, she would understand where she stood.
__________________________
The club was alive with energy, the kind of electric buzz that made everything feel larger than life. I leaned back in the plush VIP booth, letting the music pulse through my body, but keeping my mind sharp. Tonight was supposed to be about letting go, but I knew better. I always knew better. Still, there was something about Aeri's presence—her unassuming elegance and quiet confidence—that made it easy to relax, at least for a little while.
Riri, on the other hand, was already completely absorbed in the night, her carefree attitude taking over. I didn't need to say anything to her; she had a way of grabbing life by the horns when she was trying to outrun her problems.
Aeri, who had been an introverted light in the family, was the first to greet us with her usual warmth. She wrapped her arms around both Riri and me as soon as we entered, and though I could tell she was genuinely happy to see us, her subtle glances told me she was still very much in control of the situation. She was never one to let anyone see too much of her thoughts, but she didn't have to; Aeri knew how to make you feel like you mattered without ever needing to do more than just listen.
She was effortlessly stunning, her elegance creating a natural pull around her. Aeri's aura was always one of quiet reassurance—always comforting, never threatening. The kind of woman everyone wanted to be around. She had a steady boyfriend, Drei, whom she'd been with for years. She was perfect in every way that mattered. But tonight was about us—about letting go of the mundane.
I gave her a smile as I took in her words, letting her settle in. "Finally, I get to hang out with you two again!" Aeri exclaimed. Her eyes softened as she looked from Riri to me, and I couldn't help but notice how much she seemed to shine in this setting—how everyone in the room seemed to gravitate toward her.
We settled into the booth Aeri had reserved, claiming the best view of the club. The music wasn't just background noise; it was a heartbeat, setting the pace for everything happening around us. I let the rhythm move through me without letting it overtake me. The lights danced above, casting playful shadows, and the space was alive. For a while, it was just the three of us—talking, laughing, sharing the kind of moments that felt like they meant something.
"So, Aeri," I said, breaking the easy silence, "how's everything with you and Drei? Still going strong?"
Aeri's gaze softened when I mentioned his name. Her smile turned almost wistful. "He's doing well, still just as sweet as the day I met him."
I caught the slight edge of possessiveness in her tone, but it was so subtle, so well-placed, that it didn't quite register with Riri, who was too busy with her own musings.
Riri nudged her playfully. "You two are like an old married couple! Honestly, Aeri, if you don't marry him soon, I'll be personally offended."
Aeri laughed softly, brushing it off. "You know us. We're happy just taking things as they come. When you find someone who truly gets you, there's no need to rush."
It was easy to see the unspoken connection between them—Aeri, always steady and composed, and Drei, who was as much a part of her quiet happiness as she was of his. But I could see through it, even if no one else could. Aeri was one of the rare few who didn't need to play the game, because she was already winning it.
Riri, ever the free spirit, let out an exaggerated sigh. "I'll never get that feeling. I swear, I'm a magnet for the complicated ones—guys who can't handle their own baggage or who think they're the main character."
I couldn't help the smirk that tugged at my lips. "Oh really? And what about that Russian hockey player you were telling me about last week?"
Riri's eyes lit up, and I knew that little spark was something she'd cultivated to hide the vulnerability that ran beneath it all. "Oh, him? Tall, blonde, and way too confident for his own good. But what can I say? He had that accent and those ice-blue eyes…" She shrugged casually, taking another sip of her drink. "Sometimes, it's fun to just go along for the thrill."
Aeri shook her head, amused but clearly not fully buying Riri's bravado. "Riri, one of these days, you're going to run into someone who changes everything."
Riri let out a laugh, sharp and defiant. "Not likely! I'm here for the side quests, not the main storyline." She raised her glass in mock defiance. "Life's too short for serious business."
As the music shifted to a faster beat, Riri grabbed Aeri and me, pulling us toward the dance floor. It wasn't so much a request as a command, and of course, we followed. Riri thrived in places like this, surrounded by energy, letting the music take her wherever it led. I watched her, amused, as she lost herself in the rhythm, her movements drawing attention. But I knew that underneath the carefree exterior, Riri was always searching for something more. The side quests—those temporary distractions—weren't enough to fill the emptiness she carried.
Aeri and I exchanged a look, one that said more than words ever could. We weren't here for the same reasons. Aeri needed the validation of a stable relationship, and Riri needed the chaos of the moment. As for me? I was here because it was all a game, and I liked playing it on my terms.
Eventually, we retreated back to our booth, where Aeri checked her phone, smiling at a sweet message from Drei. She was in love, content, and it was evident. I couldn't help but feel a flicker of something—a recognition of what could be, if I ever let myself truly indulge in it. But that was a different game for a different time.
"Okay, Kei," Aeri said, her voice soft, "what's new with you? Any romance?"
I laughed lightly, knowing the question was more out of curiosity than concern. "Honestly? Nothing serious. You know me. It's… complicated."
Riri, overhearing, sauntered over with her usual dramatic flair. "Complicated means 'crushing hard but in denial.' Spill, Kei!"
I met her gaze, letting the moment hang between us. "It's not like that," I said, letting just the right amount of uncertainty slip into my voice. "I'm just… figuring things out."
Aeri's smile was gentle, but there was a quiet understanding in her eyes. "It's okay, Kei. When the time is right, you'll know. Until then, don't overthink it. Just enjoy the moment."
I didn't respond to that. It was too neat, too tidy. But it was also exactly what Riri needed to hear, so I let the moment pass without argument. It wasn't about me tonight. It was about creating the illusion that things were fine.
As the night wore on, Riri spotted the Russian hockey player again, and I watched with amusement as she spun her way across the floor toward him. Aeri and I shared a smile, but it wasn't a smile of happiness. It was a knowing one.
"Looks like Riri's found her next adventure," Aeri remarked.
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help but laugh. Riri was always in the middle of some new distraction, but for tonight, it was just part of the show. We all had our roles to play.
When the night ended and we stepped outside, I felt the cool air settle against my skin. Riri was still buzzing from the night, her face flushed with excitement, but I could see the emptiness in her eyes. It wasn't enough, not yet. It never would be.
But for now, the game continued. And we were all just playing our parts.
__________
As we walked down the street, the buzz of the night seemed to linger in the air, but it was a fading hum, like the tail end of a song. Riri was still full of life, her eyes glinting with the thrill of the chase, even as she waved goodbye to the Russian hockey player, who'd clearly taken the bait for tonight's distraction. Aeri and I exchanged another silent glance—one of understanding.
Riri needed the chaos; it was her armor. It was easier for her to slip into someone else's story than face her own. And Aeri… well, Aeri was the constant, the one who tried to piece everything together, who clung to stability like a lifeline. And me? I was somewhere between them—detached enough to see it all unfold, but always in control.
We made our way to the car, the air cool against my skin. I could feel the weight of the night catching up with me. It wasn't physical exhaustion. No, I wasn't tired—I was too alert for that. But I could sense a shift in the energy between us. Riri's high was fading, Aeri's contentment was settling into something more reflective, and I… I was still analyzing every move, every word that had been spoken.
We piled into the back of the car. Riri leaned back against the seat, her arms crossed, already looking ahead, likely reliving the night's moments. I could almost hear her thoughts: the next distraction, the next challenge. For all her bravado, Riri would be seeking something more soon. It was inevitable.
Aeri glanced at me from across the seat, a small smile playing on her lips. "You've been quiet, Kei. Something on your mind?"
I turned to meet her gaze. There was no judgment there, just that knowing calmness she always carried. It was comforting, but also disarming. It made me feel… exposed. And I didn't like that.
"I'm fine," I replied, my tone measured, carefully neutral. "Just thinking."
Riri half-turned, raising an eyebrow. "Thinking? About what? Still trying to figure out your 'complicated' situation?" Her voice was light, teasing, but there was a deeper layer beneath it. She didn't say it outright, but she knew me well enough to sense when I was holding something back.
I let out a soft laugh, the kind that didn't quite reach my eyes. "Maybe. You know how it is. I'm not in a rush to sort anything out."
Riri made a dismissive noise, but I could tell she was already focused on something else—probably the possibility of running into the hockey player again, or more likely, another potential 'side quest.' She was always moving, always distracted.
The car ride continued in comfortable silence, the city lights flickering past like a blur of color. As we neared Aeri's place, I felt that familiar sense of detachment wash over me again. The night was over, but it didn't feel like an ending. More like a chapter closing before another one began.
"Thanks for tonight," she said, her voice soft and genuine. "It was exactly what I needed."
I nodded, offering a small, polite smile. "Same here. It's always nice to see you, Aeri."
Riri shot me a look before climbing out of the car. "Don't pretend you didn't have fun, Kei. You never let anything slip, but I know when you're actually enjoying yourself." She grinned mischievously, like she knew something I didn't. But then, Riri always thought she had me figured out.
I didn't bother responding, letting her think whatever she wanted. It wasn't important. What mattered was how everything would unfold in the days ahead. What was important was that I stayed ahead of the game.
As Aeri waved goodbye and disappeared into her building, I took a deep breath, pushing down the need to overanalyze everything. It was all just pieces—pieces I could arrange however I liked.
Riri and I walked back to my place in comfortable silence, the kind that said we didn't need words to understand each other. But even as we reached the door, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to change. With Riri, things were always in motion. And as for me? I was still figuring out what my next move would be.
For now, though, I closed the door behind us and let the night fade into memory. But I knew it wouldn't stay in the past for long. Tomorrow, the game will continue. And I always played to win.