Fantasy of Evolution Chapter 4: Manic Pixie Dream Girl
Florante is having trouble telling reality from fantasy at this point. Does he even want to be involved with Jenny’s angel and demon nonsense?
Which side should he choose? You’d think the angels’ side is the right path, but he has enough darkness in him to go demon too.
You can also find more chapters of my original fiction here. Please enjoy.
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Dismissal time came and went.
The friendless, listless Florante Galang shuffled towards his school service—a public utility jeepney (PUJ) turned private vehicle—in order to repeat the Groundhog's Day loop of him going home from class, waking up again to return to the same class, and having no one to talk to as he ended up scoring mediocre grades on his quizzes and quarterly exams.
Oh joy. It was like he was stuck in Groundhog's Day. The same day repeating over and over.
But the same could be said of every other student in Fatima School of Mandaluyong. He couldn't really complain.
He was neither the first nor last kid to be bored of the repetitiveness of school. Socially awkward kids were born every day.
Also, it wasn't as if the Philippines had its own version of the Groundhog's Day holiday either. Florante just liked that particular Bill Murray movie enough to reference it in his mind monologue; it was his closest point of comparison.
The only other metaphor he could think of was the eternal afterlife punishment of the Grecian mythological figure Sisyphus endlessly rolling a rock up a hill only for it to roll back down by the end of the day so he had to roll it back up again the next day. Forever.
He looked up. The ominous skies were in a dark mood, with the gloomy clouds looking particular dense and opaque. However, at least it hadn't wept out a dreary downpour.
He felt his spine tingle as he walked inside a parking lot that, just yesterday, served as a battleground against an indescribable floating monstrosity. The stuff that nightmares were made of.
He reassured himself that it didn't really happen anyway. It was all just a dream. Like him killing his bullies with special powers and whatnot.
Florante Galang pushed his idle musings of his friendless existence to the back of his mind as he skipped going to his school service and decided to ride the UV Express Toyota Tamaraw FX (a metered taxi) from Mandaluyong to Makati instead.
His body moving on its own.
***
Fantasy of Evolution
An Urban Fantasy Story by Abdiel
How far will Florante's delusions take him this time?
Disclaimer: This work may reference copyrighted material, the use of which has not always been specifically authorized by the copyright owner. It is believed that this constitutes a fair use of any such copyrighted material as provided for in Section 107 of the US Copyright Law. All copyrighted material referred to in this work belongs to their respective owners. All rights reserved.
***
Chapter 4: Manic Pixie Dream Girl
***
As the Philippines' financial center, Makati served as the city with the highest concentration of local and multinational companies in the nation. It was filled to the brim with banks, department stores, malls, and corporate offices as well as foreign embassies galore.
In particular, Makati's Ayala Avenue contained the Philippine Stock Exchange's biggest trading floor. The city also ended up becoming Metro Manila's major entertainment and cultural hub for good measure.
As far as Florante Galang knew, Makati was the city of rich kids, business people, and trust-fund babies. Their biggest problem there was finding parking for their cars, since most of its residents owned their own car and rarely used public transportation (mostly taxis and buses).
Galang exited the FX and ended up wandering around the streets of Makati, with only one particular destination in mind.
His own gut feelings or instincts guided him through the unfamiliar labyrinth of an urban jungle.
Dully, with his body on autopilot, he asked around for the street where Jennifer Tolentino or the Tolentino Family lived. Remembering the first time he met her, with her telling him she lived in Makati.
He talked to tricycle drivers, passersby, and security guards in private subdivisions, asking where Jenny's address was (as indicated by a Post-It note he found in his bag), stopping to eat at the local 7-Eleven as a light squall of rain made the pavement glisten from neon lights.
Before Florante knew what had happened, he ended up in front of Jennifer's apartment in Makati again.
Like he sleepwalked over there. Or rather, commuted there instead of went straight back to his home.
Wait, again? Was he there before…? How did he even know it was Jenny's apartment?
Jeez. What was wrong with him?
***
Florante's blurry eyes cleared, only for him to see an apparition of the glasses-wearing girl in the horizon, her hair blowing from an unseen wind.
"Flor," she beckoned him after reaching him, holding a plastic bag containing what he presumed was her dinner.
"It's Florante," he said without thinking.
"I don't care," she answered back with a pout before smirking. "You look like a 'Flor' to me. Be mad. I'm still gonna call you Flor from now on."
"O-Okay." He felt his cheeks grow warm in spite of himself. Yeah, she did kind look cute in this light, didn't she?
He pushed back such nonsensical thoughts, with him trying to remember why he went there in the first place.
"So what brings you here? How'd you know my address? Or my phone number? Did you ask one of our classmates for it?" she asked, which made him become defensive.
Oh right. He called her first before going there. Right? Did he or didn't he…?
"No, no! It's not what it looks like! I mean, I…!" he stammered before blurting out how he found out about the address, not knowing how else to broach the subject of him seeing her name and face on all those older yearbooks in the library.
He became a stuttering mess. Their meeting didn't pan out as smoothly as it would've on T.V. and the movies, with them coming to a mutual understanding of what had happened after the jig was up.
She didn't even bring up how he told her that he remembered their fight with the spaghetti monster. This further convinced him that his fever dream of murdering his classmates was actually just that. A dream.
A bad dream. A nightmare. A power fantasy. That was just him blowing off steam from being bullied by using his own imagination.
His real self could never do such a thing. Right?
Oh wait, why'd he go there at Jenny's place in the first place? He had to explain himself!
He unzipped his bag then produced the photocopies of the yearbooks he got a hold of. One was her graduating in the 1960s. Another was her address from the yellow pages. Another, a Post-It note of her same address.
"I didn't believe the dreams I had were just dreams until I saw this," he said, finding the courage to speak and confront Jenny about his recent discovery, his mind a white haze.
Jennifer palmed her face. "I sure hope you realize just how bad this looks, right? You got my address and phone number from the yellow pages without me knowing then you went to my apartment unannounced."
"…I-I'm sooo sorry," he apologized profusely.
"…You just won't leave things well enough alone, can you?" Jenny said with a resigned sigh. "Come with me, then. Let's talk."
***
She led him to her apartment. They took the stairs instead of the elevator to get there since it was just located on the third floor.
He panted from the effort of climbing stairs but put up a brave front.
He kept his asthmatic wheezing to a minimum after realizing something that sent shockwaves to his whole body.
Florante's heart skipped a beat. This was his first time going to a girl's home.
Or even a classmate's home, to be honest. He didn't have any friends to speak of back in Fatima High, after all.
Florante entered the small rental apartment Jennifer Tolentino lived in, thinking it was about twice the size or more of his bedroom.
He excused himself as he stepped within the threshold of the apartment, looking around for Jenny's parents. However, they weren't there.
'Where are her parents?' he wondered. Were they away on a business trip? Was she sent to live in Makati to get her closer to school? Or maybe she was living with an aunt and uncle? A guardian?
Did her family live in the province? Did she live alone? Were they alone right now…?!
Florante gulped hard before he became aware of his wheezy breathing again. He took out the asthma inhaler inside his bag and took a puff. He then started breathing manually to calm himself down.
'Relax,' he told himself.
Oh boy. What'd he gotten himself into? At the back of his mind, he vaguely wondered if any of what was happening was normal. Wasn't he stalking her by doing this? She mentioned that was the impression he gave.
He then remembered he didn't really call her. That was also a daydream. Why did she somehow expect him to get there…?
Déjà vu filled him inside to the brim. Did he somehow end up here in her apartment because he went there before or something?
"Gabriel," she called out, which awoke him from his stupor.
Gabriel? Oh, right! That was what she called him back in his dream. Or was it a dream? Or was he dreaming right now?
Like he did when he wrote her address on a Post-It note and jumped on the roofs of houses and buildings from Pasig to Makati like he was Spider-Man? Wait, did that even happen?
He struggled to speak and stumbled upon his words.
"Gabriel? As in the Archangel Gabriel?" he asked her without thinking. "Why are you calling me by that name? Isn't he a legendary angel?"
Had he asked the same question before?
Jenny shook her head and patiently smiled, motioning for Florante to sit on the couch of her living room while she made some tea. "You're so picky with names. You don't want to be called Flor or Gabriel. But you're the same guy, in the end."
It was easier to hold a conversation with her in his imagination because in reality he was usually alone and barely talked to anyone.
He went straight to the point, saying things that would've embarrassed him in real life.
"I saw you in my dreams lately."
An awkward pause passed between them, making him regret saying anything.
"Oh. Is that so?" she asked, her lips as flat as a line as she blinked at him several times. Or she was batting her eyelashes at him?
He presumed she had just teased him with a nice dollop of sarcasm. Damn his inability to read social cues!
"Um, I didn't mean it like that," he clarified, feeling his cheeks grow warmer by the minute. "I mean, uh... I'm having déjà vu all over again. I've seen this dream before. We've talked inside your apartment before."
"Really now," she said, taking a sip of the tea she had laid out for the two of them on the table, her hazelnut eyes penetrating through him like the concentrated beam of sunlight from her magnifying lenses for glasses.
Florante turned away, his hand covering his mouth. His face on seeming fire.
A few weeks or months ago, he'd think his capricious feelings for Jenny was a betrayal of his crush on Laura Reyes, the prettiest girl in their class. However, that ship had long ago sailed.
Perhaps him moving on from Laura to Jenny was why he "saved" Jenny from his wrath in his other dream/nightmare where he murdered all his bullies with magical/supernatural powers?
Or maybe he should stop being so shallow? Honestly, falling in love with any pretty girl that treated him nice was pathetic. Ah, who knew? He should get his head out of the gutter. What was he doing there anyway?
More importantly, did they really just fight a gigantic spaghetti monster using elemental superpowers and, uh, super-fast germinating moss?
"Why'd you visit me from out of the blue, Flor?" Jenny asked, with her using that irksome nickname again. However, Florante ignored it.
"…Y-You're much older than you look, right?" he blurted out.
She raised an eyebrow at that statement. "Pardon me? What do you mean?" she asked, adding, "Don't you know it's rude to ask a girl her real age?"
'Only if you're talking to a middle-aged woman,' he thought to himself. However, he could feel the onset of a wheeze in his asthmatic breathing.
"It's true, isn't it? You're not a real teenager."
She dwelled on his words. "What if I'm not?" she asked gently, her voice barely above a whisper. Her dulcet tones sent tingles down his spine.
"So how old are you really? Was that really you in the 1960s yearbook? Are you an immortal? Am I an immortal too?"
"You could say that," she said, to his surprise. "Yes, that is a picture of me. I'm amazed I was able to get away with enrolling in the same school too, but the registrar never bothered checking who the other Jenny Tolentino is."
He shivered in spite of himself.
"They must've thought it's just a funny coincidence. Or that she was a relative of mine with the same name. Or they simply don't remember," Jenny explained.
Florante then asked, "Am I like you? Since you called me an Ophanim back then. I knew that wasn't a dream! You really did pretend to be a high school teen! We're both…!"
He gasped then let out a long exhale to prevent himself from hyperventilating.
"Did what happen the other day… yesterday… whenever it happened, really happen? You remember it too, right? The spaghetti monster?" he dared ask.
She must've known. She just said she received his call, even though he could've sworn he only called her in his dreams. He didn't have the courage to call her for real! Or visit her apartment for real. But here he was now.
Unless this wasn't real either.
Florante racked his brain of vague, forgotten memories of his past dreams, unsure of he was inside yet another dream, only this time more lucid. How lucid was he anyway?
Him mentioning the spaghetti monster incident made her snap back into attention, which jolted him backwards and made him murmur an apology by reflex.Was it something he said?
"So you remember me calling you an Ophanim, huh?" she asked.
He nodded slowly, with him not quite looking at her while he recalled their last significant interaction with one another.
"What's an Ophanim again? A wingless angel, was it? Is it that monster I transformed into where I could see everywhere because I had a hundred eyes or something? Just like that spaghetti monster we fought?"
He tugged at his collar, squirming in his seat at the intense gaze Jennifer gave him. Like fawn shrinking back at the headlights of a speeding truck.
Was he not supposed to carry on their conversation from last time? Did he do something wrong?
She softened her stare, the glint from her glasses disappearing, revealing her almond eyes. "That's right. You and the monster we fought are both Ophanim, Gabriel."
"There you go again," he said. "My name isn't Gabriel. Or Flor. It's Florante. And who are you supposed to be? Michael? Uriel? Or maybe…?"
"I'm Raphael," she said, confirming his suspicions.
"The ninja turtle?" he joked, but he then bowed his head and looked away when he saw her deadpan poker face, murmnring an apology for his lame joke.
"Well, that's… cute," she said of the joke, then asked, "What do you want, Gabriel?"
"…What do you mean?" he asked, inching away from her.
Instead of answering his question, she took another sip of her tea. "Fine. What else do you remember, Florante?"
Her using his full name caught his attention. He answered her question after a deep breath, sensing that she was testing him somehow.
So he told her everything.
***
Florante told Jennifer that he remembered his fever dream of murdering his whole class and destroying most of the school before facing off against Laura Reyes, who also somehow also got her own angelic powers.
This made him idly wonder if she were a wingless angel too. Wait, she had wings, right? She might even be a winged angel instead. He also recalled that Geronimo "Gerry" Jacinto faced off against him with his own superpowers too.
Gerry couldn't be an angel. He was more of a devil. A monster. A demon. His bully and daily tormentor being a holy being of light and goodness just didn't sit well with Florante.
Wait, didn't Jenny refer to the spaghetti creature as a demon instead of an angel…?
Then he talked about how he and Jenny ended up fighting against the tentacled monster from out of nowhere at the school parking lot, with her killing it with enchanted(?) moldy bread with mold that spread across its body like gangrene.
He then finished with him dreaming about going to her place before he ended up doing so anyway at the spur of the moment, resulting in déjà vu.
He left off the part where he wasn't sure if what he saw right then was itself a lucid dream or reality. Maybe because he feared this would result in the dream ending like before, so he kept that last bit to himself.
Let him dream this particular dream of him talking to a girl and being alone with her in her apartment for a little while longer.
"Well…?" he asked. She'd been listening in silence the entire time, with only occasional nods and sips of tea to break his long monologue. "What do you think? Did what happen the other day… yesterday… whenever, really happen? You remember it too, right?"
She then told him, "I'll be honest. I'm not sure if you're Gabriel just yet."
What she just said made Florante even more confused than before; like he was talking some sort of oral exam and happened upon a trick question.
"Pardon me? What do you mean?"
"I suspected you're Gabriel but I'm not yet sure because you're just an Ophanim right now."
He pondered her words. "Meaning?"
With steepled hands, she said, "You're a newborn angel. We call newborn angels Ophanim or Thrones. Your multi-eyed self is your true form for now."
"What do you mean true form? Stop joking! Am I Gabriel or not?"
"Newborn angels don't necessarily have famous identities. However, the truly exceptional ones might graduate to Cherubim or Seraphim level. Based on what you've accomplished before, I suspected you've become the newest avatar of Archangel Gabriel."
Her answer gave him a headache. "So you think I'm Gabriel but you're not sure?"
She shrugged. "You may or may not be the Archangel Gabriel. Right now, you're just a wingless Ophanim who could use your angelic powers while in human form. An egg but not quite the chicken."
"…And you're not an Ophanim yourself?" he asked.
"I've already gotten my wings," she answered with a shrug and a wink. "You still need to earn yours."
"…So what are we exactly?" he dared ask. "What are angels supposed to be?"
Jenny took her time sipping her tea. Since she was about to proverbially spill it.
"Angels. Demons. Devils. Monsters. Deities. Demiurges. Higher beings. Celestials. Different cultures call us different names. We might even be considered gods. Or superheroes."
"Really? Superheroes?"
"…Nah."
"Oh."
Jenny took another sip of her tea with a small smile. She murmured something under her breath that Florante couldn’t quite catch.
"What was that, Jenny?" he asked.
"So did you really intend to kill your classmates back then?" The bespectacled girl asked, the hair on her head starting to dance and twirl from an unseen gust of wind. Weird. "Even if it was a dream, no person normally dreams of something so grisly."
"This again? It's not my fault! It was the dream me that killed Laura! And the rest of our classmates! I would never do that in real life! Stop blaming me for something I subconsciously did!"
"Is that so?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I swear if I knew my dreams had real consequences, I wouldn't even imagine doing that to anyone," he said. "Look at me. I'm pathetic. I wouldn't even hurt a fly or a cockroach."
She sighed and let the awkward silence linger between them for five minutes that felt like eternity.
Not that the squirming, gulping Galang counted the seconds or anything.
"Fine. Screw it. It's my turn to tell you everything. Florante Galang, you're a candidate to becoming the Archangel Gabriel. Congratulations."
***
From a distance, Florante heard the rumble of thunder. He shuddered, but it felt like the rest of the room shuddered with him, which made him wonder if he had just felt an earthquake as well… or was it just him? He couldn't tell.
Did the drizzle outside become a downpour? Oh my. He should've brought an umbrella with him.
"A candidate?" Galang repeated. "Like a presidential candidate? I could be Gabriel or not?"
"Or you could be Schrodinger's Gabriel," Jenny said, giggling. "You're Gabriel and not Gabriel at the same time!"
"Shredder… what?" he asked, unfamiliar with the reference.
She cleared her throat. "Never mind."
"N-No. Tell me what you meant!" he insisted.
"I mean, just read about Schrodinger's Cat from a trivia book, man," she said. "Anyway, we're getting off-topic. Yes, you're a candidate. An avatar. You could become Gabriel. Or some other famous angel. And Ophanim like you can become Gabriel too."
Florante clasped his hands in front of him, seemingly deep in thought. "In my dreams, several of my classmates manifested powers of their own. Are they also angels? Or Ophanims?"
"Very good, Florante," she said, which made him frown at her condescension. "Yes, they're also wingless angels. They're also candidates to becoming Gabriel. If they develop their powers correctly, they could end up awakening as Gabriel themselves, if not other angels, gods, or deities of history."
"Wait, wait, wait. Aside from Gabriel, they… we could become famous angels like Michael, Raphael, or Uriel? Also, by gods and goddesses, do you mean Greek or Roman ones? An Ophanim could become Zeus or Jupiter? How about the Norse All-Father Odin?" Florante queried.
"More or less," came "Raphael's" unhelpful answer.
"And what makes you so sure I'm a Gabriel candidate?"
Jenny shrugged. "I can tell. Or at least the Raphael within me can recognize him from inside you. Whether or not you're worthy to bear his name shall be seen later on."
The thunderous rumblings arouind them grew louder and harsher, producing a droning sound. However, for some reason, the two both ignored the rampaging elephant in the room.
"Wait," Florante said, his mind going a mile a minute but his mouth still stuck at the starting line. "What must I do to win the, uh, candidacy?"
"Evolve from an Ophanim to a Cherubim and then a Seraphim," Jenny replied. "You must evolve the right way to, or else…"
"…Or else the other candidates will end up winning? Is that it?" he finished her sentence for her. "So how do I evolve to become Gabriel?"
As he said the words, he wondered if he even wanted to become the avatar of an ancient archangel in the first place.
To himself, he wondered, 'Do I even want to be Gabriel?'
It sounded like so much responsibility to live up to the Archangel Gabriel.
Another thing occurred to him. He asked, "And that spaghetti monster you called a demon. Can he become a candidate for Gabriel too? Or is he supposed to be the avatar for Satan, Lucifer, or whoever instead?"
"Ah. You figured that one out too, huh?" she said with a sage nod. "You're quick on the uptake, kid."
"So…?" Florante urged.
Jenny said, "W-ell, in the case of that spaghetti monster, he might've been an Ophanim at one point, but because he let his powers control him instead of the other way around, he ended up becoming demonic instead. A Minion instead of a Throne."
"Minion?" Florante repeated. He didn't like the sound of that. "What the hell are minions? Wait, don't tell me. They're like Ophanims. They're baby demons!"
"That's exactly what they are," confirmed Jenny, who got up from her seat in excitement. "Good call. So there you go. You have the potential to become either a demon or an angel. An Ophanim or a Minion."
Galang then asked, "How can you even tell when, um, someone is an Ophanim or Minion? A demon or angel? They're both monstruous, to be honest."
He also got up from his seat, which made him stumble and grab hold of the nearest furniture to steady himself. Was it vertigo or did the room spun on its own?
He didn't know what was going on.
To be quite frank, his head throbbed with the information overload. So he was an angel that could also be a devil? What? Or rather, the avatar of biblical angels who somehow ended up here in the Philippines? Really?
"I guess that's the point?" Jenny said with a shrug. "A demon is just a fallen angel, after all. Whether they have bird wings or bat wings. Halos or ox horns."
"…Monsters by any other name, am I right?" they heard someone say, like it had access to the P.A. system in their minds.
The two shuddered, feeling a chill deep down their spine. They looked at each other, realizing they both felt and heard the same thing.
"Did you hear that?" asked Jenny.
"Yeah," acknowledged Florante. "What was that?"
Jennifer looked him straight in the eyes. "A demon."
They felt the presence of another. Another one of them. Or perhaps more than one? They couldn't tell.
Unbeckoned, they stood up and headed out of the room, following that dreadful feeling from its source.
***
Just like in Florante Galang's nightmare of decimating Fatima High School and killing all of his bullies—or fellow Gabriel candidates (which included collateral damage like Laura Reyes)—the skies grew dark once more.
As the cliché went, it was a dark and stormy night.
The rain fell in torrents—except at occasional intervals, when it got checked by a violent gust of wind that swept up the streets—rattling along the apartments, condos, and housetops, and fiercely agitating the fluorescent bulbs of the lamps that struggled against the ominous darkness, its fuses ready to burst.
The two angel avatars also heard rumblings from the epicenter from which people on foot and inside vehicles as well as vermin like mice and roaches avoided, resulting in a chaotic mess of a traffic jam and a fleeing crowd on the verge of a stampede.
"Let's go," said Jennifer Tolentino, who took hold of Florante Galang's hand to accompany him towards the horrible something that had caught their attention.
The demonic presence that acted like the source or fault line of an earthquake that shook the world itself right at its core.
Rather than get repelled by the negative vibrations that reverberated into their very bones the closer they got to them like the rest of the living things in flight mode that surrounded them like a sea of humanity or an ocean of life, the two angelic avatars felt somehow magnetized by the dark presence, their heads glowing with an aura unseen by others like ultraviolet light.
An inner brightness spilling over their heads and spreading out from the center like the nuclear fusion of a star, thus making their heads glow with a spherical aura. The corona of the sun. A literal angel halo.
Jennifer's halo glowed a greenish blue hue while Florante's glowed a fluorescent white and sky blue color instead.
This inexplicable aura was what allowed them to part the living sea of mice and men, with people unconsciously or subconsciously avoiding them. This allowed them to make their way to the demonic presence they felt and heard.
To the voice that talked to them right inside their heads.
They ran towards oblivion and uncertainly in an adrenalin rush, but somehow, the virgin Florante couldn't he happier.After all, he was running hand-in-hand with a cute girl. What was there to complain about?
Jenny, whose first impression on Florante was that of a timid mouse, perhaps a talkative gerbil, had always made his heart flutter but in a way that one would find a kitten or puppy adorable.
He wasn't sure what he felt for her now was necessarily a crush.
However, she somehow looked different to him now, with her heaving bosom, glistening face, and reddened cheeks as she brushed her slightly damp hair to the side while running with him.
Like she suddenly transformed into a hot librarian right before his eyes.
In the middle of their sprint, an out-of-breath Florante said from out of the blue, "Thank you."
"…Huh? For what?" Jennifer asked.
"For humoring me and listening to what I have to say," he said in candid honesty. "I appreciate it."
She smiled. "No problem. We're both angel avatars, right? We might as well stick together."
"You bet! I like a girl who understands me but I can confide to as well," he blurted out without thinking, only for him to realize what he just said a little too late. Not knowing how to take it back.
"How am I supposed to respond to that?" asked the sheepish Jenny, who looked away and hid her eyes with the glint of her glasses.
She then stopped running hand-in-hand with him and let go of his hand, which startled him.
However, before he could apologize (again), she beckoned him to keep following her before she began running again, which he did.
He kept trailing her from behind as he resisted the urge to keep looking at her behind.
Soon, they realized there were no longer any people around them. Or any signs of life. No birds. No bugs. No signs of life. Nothing.
The stalls and stores were empty. Completely evacuated. No one dared remain in the exact direction they went: A pulsating pitch blackness.
"Do you feel that?" asked Jenny. "The heat from your face? Your head?"
"Y-Yeah," said Florante, but he had another type of hotness in mind, his eyes avoiding the jiggle of her heaving bosom as she ran towards the black maelstrom.
He had a feeling she had just changed the subject from what they were talking about earlier.
"That's your halo. Your spiritual energy. Your aura. That's where your powers come from as an avatar of Gabriel," she explained. "You weren't able to detect it before, but you can feel it now, right?"
"Yeah, I think I can," he said with a wheeze and a gulp that turned into a coughing fit, unable to meet Jenny's curious gaze.
"It's because you're getting used to your powers now… Wait. We're here."
He then looked up after she stopped from her run. They'd reached their destination: A church.
"Where are we? What church is this?" Florante asked.
"Guadalupe Church," Jenny answered.
The Guadalupe Church or Parish, also known as the Nuestra Señora de Gracia Church, was a Baroque Roman Catholic church located in Makati City, Philippines.
Florante would later learn that the building was once occupied by both the Filipino revolutionaries of the 1890s and American forces of the 1900s during the Philippine-American War. In World War II, it served as the garrison for the Japanese invaders.
It now currently stood as one of Makati's premier tourist attractions as well as one of Metro Manila's most popular wedding destinations. Had Florante learned of this earlier, it would've made his head spin. He certainly envisioned marrying Jenny in the middle of their run.
However, something more noticeable than the church itself caught the pair's attention.
A tornado of blackness, ash, and what could be best described as tendrils of sentient smoke moved between them and the church ruins.
A crawling chaos. A grotesque mockery of reality beyond comprehension.
Again, like before with his confrontation with Laura Reyes or the parking lot spaghetti monster, Florante was at a loss for words describing what was before him.
This new creature was another indescribable eldritch abomination straight out a child's nightmares. Or even man's primal fears.
The formless, mindless disaster then coalesced into what looked like a tall, lean man made of shadow. He, if it were a he, had neither beard nor hair. He was instead an ebony cesspool. The Black Death personified. A humanoid typhoon.
His own tarry aura melted into a shapeless robe made of a heavy dark fabric. Like his aura had become his own clothes that converged unto him into the singularity made from a dying star.
His dense living black hole seemed to drown out and absorb what little light surrounded them, like waves of the Dead Sea or nimbus clouds blocking sunlight or moonlight. This made the comparatively faint halos of "Raphael" and "Gabriel" stand out more.
Although he was as horrible in appearance as an Ophanim, Florante couldn't even begin to imagine describing the shadowy tendril man as anything other than demonic. A Minion.
"H-Hey, you wouldn't happen to have one of those moldy pieces of bread with you by any chance, right?" Florante half-joked, half-expecting himself to need to transform into a Throne to match the power of this Minion before them.
The disembodied voice from before then spoke, but both Jenny and Florante realized somehow that it didn't enamate from the creature before them. Rather, it came from some other source.
"Pardon me, but I can't stand to look at this farce anymore," said a sharp-dressed foreign man—a Caucasian person with a sharp nose, even sharper spectacles, and auburn hair—in English.
"Who are you?" Florante called out, surprising himself with his own bravery when talking to the scary foreign stranger.
The man in the business suit—formalwear known to Filipinos as an Americana—ignored him, though. This businessperson that looked like a Makati expatriate or even a visiting company CEO addressed Jennifer instead.
"Are you honestly indulging the boy's delusions until now, Raphael? How cruel of you. You know he's no angel. He's actual more of a demon, to be honest. With destructive power like his, he should be on our side."
"Mammon," said Jennifer, naming the demon before them. "Stay out of this. He's mine."
This made Florante jerk his head and stare at Jenny by reflex, his cheeks burning at her bold proclamation. 'I-I'm hers?!' he thought.
Aloud, Galang asked her, "You know him? Wait, his name is mamon (Filipino sponge cake)? Seriously?"
She rolled her eyes. "Not mamon. Mammon. The demon Mammon."
"Tell him the truth about himself already or I will," Mammon threatened with a smirk. "I'm getting impatient."
Thusly, Florante shot a Thunderbolt at Mammon.
A pinprick or lasebeam of light producing a vaccuum of emptiness around it, rendering the surroundings into rubble with a loud sonic boom.
The businessman cackled and stopped the supersonic assault with one hand, transforming to a huge-headed goblin with a long nose, ram horns, and a stogie for the briefest of instances before returning to his avatar's human form.
"Flor!" exclaimed Jenny in spite of herself. "What are you doing? You're no match for him right now!"
"Well now. I see you've convinced the young lad to side with you using your avatar's… feminine charm, Raphael! Bravo. You're quite the devilish temptress, if I do say so myself. Like Jezebel. You'd make a fine demoness yourself.."
Despite being fully clothed, Jennifer covered herself with her hands by reflex and shame after hearing Mammon's remark. "You're such a pig."
"Well of course, I am!" said Mammon with a smug grin. "I'm a demon."
The halo of the Archangel Gabriel's avatar flared like a ring of fire or a celestial ball of gas and plasma, his bright corona traveling all over his body and enveloping him in a white and blue light while he crackled with arcs of electrity.
Finally, the demon Mammon addressed Florante. "I don't blame you for siding with her, kid. Raphael's avatar is a pretty little thing, not going to lie. However, you were born ten thousand years too early to take on the likes of me. I've forgotten more than you can even remember."
With his arms crossed, Mammon floated away. Barely baring his fangs at Florante's best shot. None the worse for wear.
No wait, he hadn't hit him with his absolute best shot yet.
Galang then summoned a bolt of lightning at himself to reenergize his body with millions of volts of electricity while increasing the potency of his offense. Remenbering how to control his powers from his dream of destroying his bullies and taking on a flying spaghetti monster that was apparently an Ophanim/Minion like himself.
A wingless angel or a hornless devil. Good or evil. Those were the two choices for a Throne such as him.
Just then, as suddenly as him shooting a Thunderbolt at Mammon like an arrow, the hornless devil in the form of a personified maelstrom of pulsating darkness diverted its full attention towards Florante and unleashed its irresistable might unto him like an endless deluge.
Unlike Mammon, this shadow man came at him in full force.
'…Oh boy. Here we go.'
He was making the correct choice siding with Jennifer Tolentino, right?
She was an angel. One of the good guys. And the demons were the bad guys every time since the beginnning of time.
Right?
***
The lean, mean shadow man with gangly spider limbs and a pulsating aura that emanated from his head to toe like smog or smoke made strange clicking noises as he shifted positions with his strange jittery dash.
The crawling chaos didn't speak and bore no trace of an expression on his dark face. This belied the whirlpool of bone-crushing force he brought with him as his mere dash forward sent the Gabriel avatar buckling and reeling.
Fortunately, Galang's halo of blue-white light created a dome-shaped wind shield composed of gyroscoping jetstreams and slipstreams that absorbed the brunt of the Minion's force. Vacuum tornadoes ripped apart the church along with blockbuster ligtning strikes.
This tall man whom Florante bore no ill will towards. This Minion of the Archdemon he truly wanted to blast to Kingdom Come, Mammon. This Ophanim. This Minion. This was a fellow… angel/demon avatar. Just like him.
Who was to say he wouldn't end up like him? A mindless beast to be hunted down by angels. A fallen angel. A demon. A devil.
Was this really his war to wage anyway? Did it even matter if he chose the side of the angels or the demons? Was this what he asked for after esentially committing social suicide? Wasn't he biting off more than he could chew, foolishly facing off against devils and demons?
Florante charged bolts of high-voltage lightning on one hand and bolts of thunder-inducing energy bullets on the other hand then hurled them one after another at the tentacled ebony monster.
Biting his lower lip at the frustration of not being able to shoot that manipulative bastard Mammon instead.
Why were they fighting again? To become avatars to millennia-old angels and demons? To become pawns on a chess game they didn't ask to be a part of?
They were practically just the same pawns, right? It was implied that this crawling chaos was also human before, like him.
If his dream of killing his bullies wasn't a dream—if none of these fantastic events were dreams—then his wish to be helpless no more just came with a heavy caveat. A Monkey's Paw wish, if you would.
Unlike the flying spaghetti monster that could regenerate itself endlessly, the crawling chaos before them and its black pulsating mass of tendrils responded quite differently to Florante's typhoon onslaught.
Even though he showcased denseness as black and bottomless as the ocean depths, his great mass or "halo" of tidal waves that densely compacted themselves into humanoid form remained unmoved by Galang's cyclone winds and plasma blasts.
No wonder Jenny didn't use quick-growing mold spores or an acorn to attack this Minion. How could any of those weaponized plants stand a chance against this force of nature?
Maybe this time, Florante had no choice but to revert to his true Ophanim form and face off against the Minion as force of nature against force of nature. Monster against monster.
"No, Florante! Don't…!" said Raphael's avatar to Gabriel's avatar, her body seemingly pinned to the wall. "Don't change into your Ophanim form and lose yourself! Or you might become a Minion yourself! A mindless beast controlled by your own powers! That's what Mammon wants!"
The bespectacled young (or young-looking) girl's hair ended up toussled by unseen winds or some sort of force of nature like gravity that blew everyone else away like a hurricane.
And indeed, before Florante noticed it, he had started to transform, his human form disappearing and reforming into a gyroscope filled with rings adorned with flaming eyes once more.
"Since Eden, no more could man have wings to bear him to paradise. Henceforth, he walked," said Mammon telepathically to both Jenny and Florante.
The two looked heavenwards at the smug demon watching over them from high above his proverbial pedestal. Right now, he lived in their heads rent-free and they loathed having him invade their thoughts like that.
"However, this man has discovered the path to recovering his lost wings. Will he rise to paradise or be another fallen angel, his feathered bird wings turned into leathery bat wings? His halo turned into horns?"
God dammit. How was Florante supposed to fight against this monster any other way than become a monster himself?
On that note, why shouldn't he be a monster? What was wrong with becoming a Minion over an Ophanim anyway? What was the difference between one monster over another?
Nevertheless, because Jennifer told him not to transform into his Ophanim form, he didn't.
The shadow creature then came upon Galang's dithering, fluctuating form that went from human to Throne and back agaain like a flickering light with his own crashing black waves of dense aura, threatening to swallow Florante under its immense mass compacted within a lean form of a tall humanoid tentacle being.
Galang resisted the irresistable, turning his sky-blue halo into a country-sized pacific storm that made the crawling chaos' oceanic depths roil, churn, and bubble. Like the desperate cyclone howling back at the black sea, which only made its angry waters angrier.
Florante didn't ask for this. He wanted to stop being socially awkward, make friends, and for his bullies to leave him alone, not get new supernatural enemies to fight and deal with the burden of waging someone else's war!
Meanwhile, Mammon again spoke to their minds. Toying with them.
"Asking a woman if she lives nearby is often a predatory tactic. That info can expose so much. If you're around the area a lot, especially alone. Or if you're isolated and from out of town and vulnerable."
Both Florante and Jenny said, "What?" at the same time, their heads turning to look at Mammon again.
"LIGHT ARRAY!"
The embarrassment Florante Galang felt from being called out by the devil himself fueled his halo enough to finally release the much-delayed pinpoint bursts of concentrated pure energy he'd been gathering all that time.
The energy projectiles shot out like explosive bullets from his five fingertips, which finally decimated the humanoid maelstrom off of him.
Unlike with the regenerating spaghetti monster, his Light Array shots actually obliterated the maelstrom of shadows, turning them into stains on the pavement from the purifying brightness of his holy light.
That was Florante's best shot. The special technique he created from scratch to shoot at all his bullies at the same time with a wave of his hands and fingers.
At least now he could use his powers in a less shameful way: To defeat a monster that threatened to destroy the city instead of petty yet deadly revenge against his meanest classmates.
***
Florante screamed to the heavens and the unseen Mammon, "I didn't stalk her! O-Or I didn't mean to! I was following a lead on why I've been dreaming the nightmares I've been dreaming, okay!? Seeing her face on an old yearbook was suspicious! I had no malicious intentions!"
They both couldn't see Mammon at that point—the coward made himself scarce—but they could hear the smirk in his voice. "But I didn't specifically say you stalked Raphael, Ophanim. You came up with that conclusion. Methinks the lady doth protest a bit too much."
Galang's head almost twisted off of his neck like a bottle cap as he shot a glance at an out-of-breath Jenny, her hair a mess and her clothes disheveled. Meanwhile, his own stomach was in knots.
He gulped and muttered, "I meant no harm, Jenny! I didn't want to kill our classmates, believe me. I-I didn't intend to stalk you either! I-It just… came off that way. B-Because I wanted to know more about what's going on with me, and you're the only other person I know who's like me…!"
Mammon then added, "Literally you cannot risk divulging such information to him, Raphael. A man is a threat. A man approaching you alone is a threat. You should've known better. This is a woman's constant reality."
After a deep breath, Jenny adjusted her glasses, which magnified her hazel eyes. She then smiled at Florante and said, "Don't worry, Flor. I understand. You didn't mean any harm, right? It was all a harmless dream to you."
That smile. That damn smile. Florante wanted to protect that smile.
Mammon's disembodied voice then snarled at the pair.
"…You actually believe his lies, Raphael? He thought it was all a dream, so that makes it okay? By now, he should've figured out that it was more than a dream. That it wasn't manslaughter, it was murder with intent. A massacre. He's also a stalker for good measure. Stop excusing his crimes."
"I've just about had enough of you, man! SHUT UP!" said Florante, his fingertips again burning with blue and fluorescent white electric light.
"Stop lying to yourself first, kid. You wanted to kill your classmates. You reveled in every death. Even the ones who weren't your bullies. If you weren't sick in the head, you would've just humiliated them as revenge for them humiliating you. That's why you dreamed that dream. It was the first time in your pathetic life that you felt in control. Give in to that desire and set yourself free!"
"Show yourself, demon!" Just one shot (or five or ten shots) of the Light Array was all he needed. He just wanted to land just one right on Mammon's smug, beak-nosed face.
"Look at you go. You feel brave now, don't you? Like you're Raphael's personal Knight in Shining Armor. Or her lost puppy. But she knows the truth about you. How dangerous you are. So she's telling you everything you want to hear for now."
"Stop being such a pathetic coward and fight!" Florante said. Not really listening to a word Mammon said while he continued to gather energy from his fingertips in concentrated pinpoints of light.
"Kid, you've got it bad for her, don't you? But she's just using you. She'll learn soon enough that you can't have sympathy for the devil. That what you did is unforgivable. Don't you know, kid? We live in a society—" Mammon started.
"No, you live in a society! I live in my meticulously crafted daydream universe that I've been using as a coping mechanism since childhood!" said Florante.
Mammon chuckled. "No. You're a back-of-the-class loser who has gone on a power trip and became mad with power."
Alas, the demon's plan of buying the crawling chaos time to recuperate worked. The shadow man returned in full force. Or rather, the shadow men cometh.
The tall, dark, and devilishly bleak Minion manifested himself into multiple avatars of all shapes and sizes.
When he got aethered by Gabriel's embarrassment-fueled Light Array, he regrouped his atomized particles and spread them across Makati towards the nearest of its fleeing denizens, turning them into his own avatars.
What the crawling chaos lacked in healing powers, he more than made up for his ability to take over the bodies of others like some sort of black lung virus. The black plague made flesh and bone.
Florante willed himself to shoot at the numerous avatars, even though when they got blown apart, they didn't atomize into tendrils but instead burst like sacks of blood and guts.
The Light Array made short work of most of them, but that technique took too long to recharge, so he had to settle for Lightning Strikes, Lightning Bolts, and supersonic Thunderbolts for the rest of the avatar army.
He soon realized he wasn't killing the crawling chaos but innocent people.
These new avatars of the crawling chaos were collateral damage. Men, women, the elderly, and children—entire families—running for their lives up until the humanoid typhoon took over their bodies and turned them into shadow people like him.
They'd been morphed into blackened homunculus or zombies puppeteered by the crawling chaos himself.
At first, dealing with the "infected" avatars of the crawling chaos felt like shooting fish in a barrel, but then they displayed bizarre attributes.
Some flew with hand glider wings. Others crawled into corners like roaches. There were those that merged to form a super muscular shadow avatar that tanked Florante's Light Array, Thunderbolts, and Lightning Bolts.
From there, Florante understood.
This man-shaped maelstrom. This walking void containing the vast cosmos unto himself who could affect mystic energies, both demonic and cosmic, on an undefined level.
As World War II veteran and American civil rights activist Medgar Evers said, "You can kill a man but you can't kill an idea."
This Minion was as unkillable as an idea. And just as dangerous.
"When a man possesses this much power, he does not seek redemption," said Mammon of the crawling chaos before Florante.
***
"Susmaryosep!"
Florante had just told Mammon he wasn't an intentional murderer (or stalker), but now here he was again, forced to murder innocents to keep this shadowy humanoid typhoon in check.
He clung to the vague hope that like with the flying spaghetti monster incident, everything would go back to normal after the crawling chaos's defeat. That everything could be undone. Like waking from a bad dream. Like all of this wasn't really real.
If he beat the Minion, he could revert everything back to their original state, like it didn't actually happen, and save the people he'd just killed to get to the humanoid typhoon. Or the walking typhoid fever.
However, that was all one big "if".
"Change into your Ophanim form. As you are now, you're no match against the Minion," teased the coward Mammon. "Unleash your full power like he has. I dare you, Gabriel."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? You dumb bastard," cursed Florante. "You can't fool me! I bet you convinced this poor Ophanim to turn himself into a Minion the exact same way!"
"So?" said the brazen Mammon. "What if I did? The results speak for themselves. You can't even touch him. Face him with your full power or never wake up from this nightmare."
After deftly avoiding hit after hit from the shadow avatars, Galang got clipped by a five-clawed strike. That was all it took. It went downhill from there.
The distraction made him miss several of his shots, which allowed a number of the shape-shifting zombies of darkness to evade his suppressive fire so as to claw, stab, and bite at him.
Desperately, he wielded a lightning bolt like a sword whip, slicing and dicing the nearest of the undead horde of the crawling chaos's hive-minded avatars.
He pushed them back with his halo's electric vacuum shield, only to buckle under the pressure of an outright stampede of shadow creatures. The weight of hundreds felt like the weight of millions due to the densely packed particles of the Minion's cosmic selves.
His panicked wheezes became a full-blown asthma attack as he drowned in black avatars that clawed, grabbed, bit, slashed, stabbed, and lacerated him to helpless shreds.
At this point, even if he willed himself to turn into his "Be Not Afraid, Child!" form of a frightful multi-eyed Ophanim, it'd be too late.
Then, just as Florante was about to get swallowed by the oily tidal wave of inhumanity that the Minion of Maelstrom mind-controlled like individual puppets, a mango tree suddenly grew and blocked their upsurge in a landslide of broken branches, splinters, leaves, and mango fruits.
Once again, Raphael's human avatar Jennifer Tolentino saved Florante's life.
She jumped and slid across the unbroken branches of the giant mango tree that served as her wooden barrier between them and the Minion's horde of mind-controlled minions (ironic) that he turned into clones of his wriggly dark self.
"Are you okay, Flor?"
"Y-Yeah, th-thanks for saving me. Again."
How shameful. He was supposed to be her Knight in Shining Armor, and here he was serving as her Damsel in Distress instead.
He didn't even have the energy to correct her nickname of him. He might as well be a "Flor". He might as well have that girly name.
She turned towards him, her green halo and her hazel eyes shining like gems full of light, and unfurled two green-feathered bird wings from her back. The thing that caught Florante's eyes though was her smile.
A sad smile that could break anyone's heart in two.
"Flor, don't be a hero. You don't have to force yourself just to make people acknowledge you," she said.
"W-What…?" he trailed off. "B-But I thought that's what I'm supposed to do as an angel! An Ophanim! I'm one of you, right? Why can't I be a hero?"
She shook her head. "When you do that, you end up blaming yourself, blaming other people, and feeling jealous of everyone. But still, it doesn't have to be like that. Even if people don't acknowledge you, you just need to be someone that you can be proud of!"
"I don't understand," he said.
She silenced him with a quick peck on the forehead.
"You don't have to fight. This isn't your war. You have no quarrel with this Minion, don't you? Even with Mammon, you're only picking a fight against him for my sake. Just be a good boy, okay? Maybe this time, when you wake you up from this dream, you'll decide to forget about all this nonsense and move on with your life."
"…." He could only stare at her cherubic, angelic form, dumbfounded into silence. He later realized that her kiss had healed all the wounds he'd sustained from battle and reenergized him at the same time.
Like man-sized termites, the shape-shifting avatars of the crawling chaos scratched, gnawed, masticated, ripped, tore, and outright drilled right into the gigantic mango tree trunk they'd crashed into, turning it into sawdust in their wake.
She then fell like a hatchling from her nest, her green feathers flying everywhere as she let the horde tear her apart in Florante's stead. Cannibalizing her, to his horror.
"NOOOOOOOO!" Galang screamed himself raspy, his eyes flooded with tears, his fingertips glowing with rivulets of bright-blue energy, his halo shining with multiple arcs of electrical power so elaborate they looked like ancient root systems.
***
Florante Galang realized early on that he really was no hero, much less a superhero.
The first chance he got superpowers, he used it for petty revenge against his bullies, his mindless massacre resulting in his high school crush becoming collateral damage.
He really shouldn't be entrusted with destructive abilities like the Light Array, really.
The realization horrified him, but he honestly wouldn't get any real satisfaction from beating a stronger foe like the crawling chaos or the flying spaghetti monster like he did when he killed his bullies in a fever dream.
He was a coward who used his powers against bullies who couldn't fight back as vengeance to how they bullied him into submission when he couldn't fight back either.
He was no better than the bullies who picked on him.
When faced with the prospect of sacrificing life and limb against a monster that threatened the lives of the whole city of Makati, he came up short.
He had no personal stakes on the matter, so he wasn't as motivated to becoming a hero.
This dark creature didn't bully him so he had no quarrel against him. He had no driving force to beat him. They were actually the same—an Ophanim and a Minion thrust into a fight they had no dog in.
Even when the Minion began using innocent bystanders against Florante, this merely horrified the young Ophanim instead of build his heroic resolve.
Ultimately, Galang was a selfish person who only cared about himself. He was an even bigger coward than Mammon, who became a disembodied voice in their heads that mocked them all the while.
Jenny was right. He didn't have to fight. He had no personal stakes here.
However, there was something she said before she did her own heroic sacrifice that stuck with him.
"Even if people don't acknowledge you, you just need to be someone that you can be proud of!"
Someone he could be proud of, huh? How could he do that? How could he become someone he could be proud of even without the acknowledgement of others? Should he become a martyr?
Florante looked down from his perch atop the gigantic "rotting" mango tree that Jenny had used her life and healing factor on to induce its gigantic growth. Saw the avatars eat Jenny so that not even her bones were left.
There it was. There was his personal stakes. With tears in his eyes, his powers began to grow anew. He knew what he must do.
Like a dying typhoon turning into a low pressure area, only to get a second wind and become a super typhoon as it moved into the moisture-rich tropics that enhanced its shower and thunderstorm activity.
He then saw that the avatars that consumed Raphael's avatar had the dark presence of the crawling chaos leave them. Evicted or otherwise exorcised out of them. Her green aura spread across them all, healing them of the Black Plague that infected them.
This maelstrom of darkness then converged into a singular man. The original avatar that served as a candidate for whoever demon wanted to take control of him.
Before this living, walking shadow creature could get his hands on more avatars, Florante struck at the unkillable thing as immortal as a concept.
How did one kill an idea or a movement before it could spread across the populace like wildfire?
Practical application. A dose of reality.
Ideas never panned out without a hitch in real life. Let it naturally progress and die in absurdity when applied to reality.
"Light Array!"
Thusly, Florante and Jennifer killed the idea of this Minion by not letting its dark influence spread across anymore innocent bystanders and victims then isolating him inside his one avatar, feeding it with energy until it burst.
Like letting a fire burn itself out before it could spread and raze everything in its path.
"Light ARRAY! LIGHT ARRAY! LIIIIIGHT ARRAAAAY!!!"
The blasts of energy chipped away at the concentrated density of the indefinable cosmic mass densely packed into the shape and sentience of a tall, lean man.
The glowing, electrified Florante then pierced through the layers and layers of negative energy in order to scream at the maelstrom, "Who are you? What are you doing? Why are you doing this? Do you really want to hurt all these people? Did Mammon put you up to this?"
The pacific storm that was Florante blasted the nimbus man with lightning and thunder, converging around him like he was the low pressure area about to become a typhoon himself.
"Did you think the same thing I had when we started fighting? Did you also wonder why we're fighting and if it's worth doing this in the first place?"
After blowing through layer upon layer of darkness and density, like a self-contained black hole made flesh, Galang then went face-to-face with… a kid. Just another kid like him. A tall kid, but a kid nonetheless.
They floated there in the eye of the storm that was Hurricane Galang.
A Minion facing an Ophanim, with both of them wondering what exactly was the difference between them.
Florante grinned at the stranger and said, "Let's stop this nightmare, okay? Maybe it's about time you woke up."
The darkness that surrounded them then shattered like glass, revealing an untouched city and a perfectly intact Guadalupe Church. Just like what had happened with the defeat of the spaghetti creature.
…Become a person he could be proud of, huh? Maybe he could try becoming that after all.
***
Flor awoke outside the village or street where Jenny's apartment was located. He hadn't met up with her yet or gone to her apartment. Everything that had happened so far was just a fantasy.
Dammit. So even that was just a dream? A daydream, this time.
He then remembered the "last time" they ended up in her apartment and what they were talking about before they were cut off.
Oh, did he have one of those lucid dreams again? The ones you could control consciously? Or was he even awake now?
He'd been having all sorts of dreams lately, probably to escape the hell that was his teenage life as a bullied boy.
The dreams were happening more and more often. It was harder and harder to tell what was real and what wasn't until he did so in hindsight.
"Wait. What the hell am I doing?" he said to himself aloud, shook his head, and left without going to Jennifer Tolentino's apartment.
"Susmaryosep," he murmured under his breath, feeling like he'd somehow dodged a bullet for some reason.
***
The next day went on easier than the last, but only because Florante Galang knew what to expect of today this time around.
His classmates would either avoid him like the plague or talk behind his back as he went about his friendless existence in First Year Section St. Francis of Assisi at Fatima High School.
Oh well. At least his fantasies and fever dreams were interesting enough to jut down in a dream journal, right? Even though his reality was as banal as it could be.
Jennifer Tolentino and Laura Reyes used to sit near him in class, but they now sat elsewhere once their homeroom teacher and class advisor rearranged their seats.
He ended up with some dude who never talked to him sitting in front of him.
During recess, he went to the library instead of the cafeteria today because he usually sat in his lonesome these days.
His usual friends… acquaintances perhaps… well, the people he sat with every lunch, the Dead Kids… were off doing their own things separately. Weirdoes being weirdoes.
He should speak though. He went to the library during lunch. He was a weirdo himself.
He also tended to avoid bumping into the group consisting of Laura and her friends or, much worse, Gerry Jacinto and his barkada (gang).
He was used to classmates and the student body at large looking through him as though he weren't there, like he were a ghost.
However, for some reason, he felt like he had eyes all around him today, but whenever he stared back at people instead of the floor or his feet as usual, they ended up looking elsewhere. As if averting his gaze.
Was there something on his face or uniform? He hoped he didn't do anything embarrassing again. However, such concerns left his mind after his trip at the library.
He had one thing in mind. One person. Jenny Tolentino.
Granted, Florante still had his photocopies of the phone book page full of "Tolentinos" and other "T" names as well as the yearbook page featuring a look-alike Jennifer Narcissa Tolentino.
…Man, he was acting really creepy again, wasn't he?
How shallow was his crush on Laura Reyes that he ended up pining for Jenny Tolentino instead? Ah, whatever.
Crushes were supposed to be shallow attraction, right? You needed to really know someone to develop deeper feelings for them. Or so he heard. He didn't believe in love at first sight, although he had his share of, uh, infatuation at first sight.
Florante simply found Jenny cute because he knew her and they shared something in common. Also, she had puppy dog eyes behind those wide-rimmed glasses.
Why hadn't he looked at her that way before? Must be because of Laura. And because she might be a fellow angel.
Or at least his imagination viewed her as such.
Maybe this was him finally giving up on Laura in favor of Jenny. Maybe.
***
To Be Continued…
Florante starts having issues in being able to tell what's real and what's fantasy as he continues to dream up plot scenarios for his comic book and uses it to retreat from how miserable his real life has gotten.
Farewell,
Abdiel
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