“All teams on standby. It’s about time we take down the Occident.”

A boy tiptoed over the tram window as he saw the great expanse of the Luzokapital. He saw the glass buildings lean over the people with their height, and the neon billboards overshadowing the city. The city of opportunity, where everyone that flocked there had a chance at a better life. Crowds of people celebrated the Piyesta of 1968, parades and confetti blanketing the streets in each color of the rainbow.

“Mama! Look! I want to go down there too!” The boy pressed his face against the glass. His mama smiled and patted his head.

“We’ll be getting off soon Escaramanga, so get ready to have some fun!” His mama raised her husband and child’s arms. “Yay!”

The husband gave no response, only folding his arms.

“C’mon, Li. You gotta let loose someday.” The wife pouted before turning her head away.

 

Jorge woke up. He had hugged a trash bag overnight, to which he instantly jumped. He banged his head against the tent and sent it crashing down on him. Breathing heavily, he took the rest of his morning fixing it. But once he finished, he was already late to get breakfast.

He went through the empty city streets with hands in his pockets, dodging the Kapulisan buggies. The usual beat. A man walking with a cane, another eating a sandwich, and a woman trying to sell a newspaper. They all ignored him. Jorge learned to do that since he started living in this place. If they did notice him, then he would just smile.

People passed by, and Jorge became more aware of the sounds. When the wind blew, he could hear the rustle of clothes. He could smell the food cooking in restaurants, the lingering smoke from the cigarettes, and the perfume of the women.

When Jorge passed a vending machine, he stopped to look at it. He took out a few silver Yak coins, and tried to focus his attention on the machine. The machine wouldn’t activate for him.

But what caught his attention was a group of men. It was on the corner across the street, close to the local palengke. There were eight of them. Jorge ignored them as they eyed him from afar.

“Thank you for buying.”

He walked out of the market, holding a plastic bag in his arm. From what he got from panhandling all week, he was able to afford breakfast for the first time in a month. A luxurious one indeed; hardened pandesal for only three silver YK.

“With this, we’ll have a feast, Borja,” He grinned while staring at the stiff bread. Jorge bumped into someone and fell to the ground. Looking up, he saw eight men.

“Well, look who we've got here. A lone Kamao sulking in the streets of the Luzokapital.”

Jorge scrambled to stand up. He looked around, and saw the men pointing their guns at him. Five of them were wearing masks, and three others wore blue bandanas covering half of their faces.

"What's your business here huh?" One of the masked men stepped forward.

"None of your business, Bakalitos." Jorge hugged the bread. "I just want to eat my breakfast."

One of the men stepped forward, grabbed Jorge by the collar, and pulled him up. He pointed his gun at Jorge's forehead.

"That'll be five YK," He cocked the revolver.

Jorge took out two silver YK coins and placed them in the palm of the man.

The man slapped the coins onto the ground. "Grab the bread!"

The other gang members laughed as Jorge obeyed. He picked up the bread, and the man punched Jorge in the stomach.

"Get going, you Bangkaño bum." Another man kicked Jorge as he ran away. He heard their laughter trail off into the distance. From a sideways angle, he watched them blend into the crowd. Only the cold concrete pavement soothed him.

As Jorge hobbled home, he struggled to catch his breath. Once he reached his camp, he sat on a bench and stared into the sky. No clouds, only sunshine. The sun heated up his body, making him sweat. A lone cat hopped down from the roofs above, landing on the dumpster nearby.

“Sorry, Borja. I can’t go to the panderiya for another two weeks…” He winced, leaning over to pet Borja. The cat meowed, rubbing against his hand. It was a regular occurrence for Jorge to come home with injuries. Borja purred, rubbing its head against his leg, and Jorge smiled.

Borja yawned as he scratched under its chin.

“Don't worry. As long as we save enough YK, one day we'll go to one of those fancy restaurants.” Jorge reassured, and picked up Borja. ¨But since people don’t like me much, it’ll probably take a while.”

The cat licked Jorge’s cheeks, and he giggled.

“Thanks, Borja. I can't use any sahar, unlike any other normal people. I can't conjure any spells but, as long as you're here we're one happy family!..." Jorge wrapped his arms around the cat as he closed his eyes for a nap.

Jorge panhandled near the streets, and he made sure to walk with his back facing the sun. The shadows covered his skin, shielding him from the harsh rays of light. His hands were free of any dirt or grime, but still felt like they were burning. He could feel the heat seeping into his palms, and he squeezed them together.

A beggar sat in front of a jeepney stop. People constantly passed by, ignoring his pleas for help. A man lay in a ditch next to the road, looking up at the sky.

Jorge looked down at his feet. People kept passing by, but nobody paid attention to him. He shuffled along the sidewalk, as the jeepneys kicked up sand in the air.

"Wish you could ride them, eh Borja?" He muttered as he stopped in front of a convenience store. Jorge scanned the storefront, spotting a girl with her parents. She begged for them to buy sesame balls. Jorge opened his wallet and looked at the money he saved for a restaurant. He took some out and bought the sesame balls.

He watched the girl eat the ball with her tiny hands. Her mother thanked him and wiped her daughter's mouth, as she clutched the last sesame ball in her fist.

When Jorge walked out of the store, a blow came across his head. He fell to the ground, and hit his head against the cement. A thin stream of blood trickled down his temple, and he crawled towards the gutter.

"Looks like you got a load of dineros!" One of the Bakal members flipped Jorge over. They dragged him into the alley, where the Kapulisan's eyes did not reach.

"You stupid kahoy! You Kamaos have been weak ever since Pérez died!" Two other men held Jorge down, while another man stood over him.

Jorge spat on them, "Bakal has no right to meddle in a gang that lost its leader. Besides, I haven't been in contact with the Kamaong-"

They pummeled his stomach, as he coughed up blood.

"Shut up! You're lucky you got so many YK today. Otherwise you'd be dead." The man kicked Jorge in the head. He curled up on the ground, dizzy. "Now, you better tell us where the other Kamaos are hiding."

Jorge shook his head. He couldn't move; his body went numb.

The men laughed as Jorge fell to the side. They waited for him to wake up, and started kicking him again. Jorge clenched his fist. These Bakalitos who wanted to ruin his humble life… they wouldn't get away. Not after all the times he had put them off. He rose up and wiped the blood off his nose.

"Putang Bakalitos... You asked for it!" Jorge ran towards them. He slugged one in the face. The other men closed in. Jorge dodged them. He punched his attacker in the gut, and sent him flying to the wall.

"No one messes with Borja and I! As Yyvubia wills it, Borja and I will go to a restaurant!" He punched one in the chest. The man dropped his weapon and fell to the ground.

"Hahaha! See? That's what happens when you try to screw with the Kamaos! If Bossing Pérez would look at me now! Gahaha!"

"Pff... You dare resist Bakal?!" A Bakalito aimed for Jorge's gut, and he folded like a sandwich. Punch after punch Jorge exhaled red spit. He dropped. He felt his strength run out, and his vision blurred. He heard the sound of footsteps coming closer.

"That’s enough." A voice called out to them. Jorge could see someone wearing a trench coat approach them. Their footsteps echoed throughout, as something materialized in their hands.

Jorge brought himself awake. Had he been sleeping? Heavy blankets restrained him as he tried to sit straight. The room was clean. No dust, no stains, not even a speck of dirt anywhere. But there was blood on his pillowcase. His face had bandages all over.

He touched his fingers against his neck, and his skin hurt. He closed his eyes and thought back. The last thing he remembered was being in a fight with a group of Bakalitos in the alley. He remembered a person stepping in when he was about to be beat up.

"You're awake?"

A young woman sat at the desk in the corner of the room. He rubbed his eyes, and looked again. For a moment, he didn't say anything. She wore a black trench coat, with her long hair untucked behind her.

"You're... talking to me?..." He pointed to himself, mouth gape. "Where am I?"

"I brought you to my hôtel room after I finished cleaning those delinquents." She walked over and sat on the side of the bed. Jorge's facial expression stayed the same.

"No, no, no. I thank you for the hospitality but I'm afraid I can't afford a room." He searched his pockets, only to find his wallet missing. All the money he saved for him and Borja to eat at a restaurant. "It's gone..."

The young lady held up the wallet in her hand. "There's no need to pay me, I was just preventing any more violence."

"What do you mean?" Jorge covered his face. "How did you know I fought those Bakalitos?"

"Bakalitos? I simply saw a fight going on and decided to stop it." She tilted her head. "Shall we head out? I haven't eaten breakfast or lunch."

"Eh? It's morning?" Jorge gasped as he looked outside the window. The sky was bright, with no clouds in sight. The city greeted him once again. He heard the honking of buggy horns and the screeching of tires. "Wait-"

He removed the blankets off and stepped onto the floor. Jorge retracted his feet to the texture of the floor. It was soft, and tickled his toes. It was the first time he touched carpet with his bare feet. Then he took note of his shoes which were neatly placed beside the bed.

As they walked out of the door, the young woman closed it and focused her mind on the knob. It locked instantly.

"If you want to use this room, feel free to. Since I've already rented another one," She turned as her hair whirled around, holding the pamphlet with two fingers.

"Sorry, señora. I can't use any sahar, so..." He scratched his head. In the distance, he spotted two men standing guard across the hallway.

"Is that so? Well then, I'll unlock and lock it for you then. Let's go."

He struggled to keep up with her pace, as they walked down the stairs and into the hôtel lobby. Once he finally caught up with her, he swallowed his spit.

"Where are we going?"

"I thought it should've been obvious." She let out her first smile since he met her. "We're going to a restaurant."