The Million Dollar Question (I)

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It was December last year.

"Honey! I met a guy last night," I said to V while we were on our way to Malate. The memory of the previous night was still fresh in my mind and I was still kilig (feeling giddy).

"Of course you did," he said, with a knowing look and a mischievous smile.

"Hahaha. You know, he's really nice," I continued.

"Of course he is," V replied, again with that look and that smile on his face. "Men are always nice at the start, aren't they?"

Totoo nga naman (How true), I thought to myself. Always on their best behavior. You never know what lies underneath.

"I'm meeting him again tonight. Ipapakilala kita. (I'll introduce you.)"



I saw him first, I think. Another guy was flirting with him at the club but we would exchange glances every now and then. Chinito, baby boy. He was taller than I am and wore glasses that gave him an air of a good boy.

After a while, he approached me.

"Why do you know all the songs?" he asked. He must have noticed I knew the lines to all the songs that were playing. "Nakakatuwa ka naman (You're so cute)."

"I guess I just really enjoy music," I replied. "Hi, I'm Kane."

"Jeff," he said. "Me too." And he smiled.



Jeff was out partying for the first time in seven months and predictably, it was because he had just broken up with his boyfriend. The noise, the music, the crowd and the alcohol help cloud the pain … even for just a while. I know.



"You were drunk. Tsk tsk," Jeff told me the next day.

"Well … I was," I admitted. "But since you saw me at my worst behavior, things can only get better right?"

"Hahaha. Don't worry Kane. I kinda liked seeing you with your guard down. People are more honest when they're intoxicated, don't you think?" Jeff said. "Do you know what you told me last night?"

"What?"

"That you like me," he said, grinning.



Just before I left Manila, Jeff told me he had gotten back with his ex boyfriend. We stopped communicating.Weeks passed. One day, I received a text from him. He had broken up (again) with his ex.


We went out on a date last weekend. Our first official date.



Saturday noon came and I was still drunk in bed when he texted.

"Are we still meeting?" he asked.

Inwardly, I groaned. I really shouldn't drink that much anymore. But I missed my friends and nobody parties like we do. My head hurt and my face was bloated with all the alcohol from the previous night. But a date is a date.

"Yes. I'm just fixing up," I replied.

We agreed to have lunch and watch a film. And since everything was on sale, I couldn't resist checking out the stores. Every girl knows one of the tests a guy must pass for a successful relationship is: Can we shop together?

Jeff tirelessly accompanied me to all the stores. I tried on jeans, shirts, long sleeves, ties, scarves, underwear (no trying, just looking), shoes. He carried my bags and gave helpful comments.

"Bagay sa iyo (It looks good on you)," he would say and smile.

Or he would frown and shake his head.

"Uhmmm. It's okay lang. Nothing great."



Three hours and six shopping bags later, we were exhausted and decided to eat. We were doing the getting-to-know-you when Jeff suddenly very casually asked the million dollar question.

"Soo … are you top or bottom?"

I almost choked on the Hainanese chicken I was eating. It was the moment of truth.