10 - A Friend from The Past

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Like flipping through a worn-out photo album, the memories of a younger Andrew riding the back of Uncle Rio's tricycle with smiles on their faces appeared on his mind

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Like flipping through a worn-out photo album, the memories of a younger Andrew riding the back of Uncle Rio's tricycle with smiles on their faces appeared on his mind. Uncle Rio would take Andrew to different street stalls and indulge him in all the snacks he would want. Recognition finally set in.

"Oh my gosh, you've gotten old," said Andrew as he stood up and help Uncle Rio back to his feet. "Like really, really, really old. I--um. Sorry 'bout the punch. Are you okay? In my defense, you guys were chasing us."

A peal of roaring laughter burst from Uncle Rio, his gravelly voice reverberating in the building. Andrew soaked in the sound of Uncle Rio's laughter. Heat pooled in the corner of his eyes. He traced the fine lines etched into Uncle Rio's aged face. The world hasn't been kind to him.

"And you were damn fast, Drew. You've also gotten old, but you're still so short!"

"Hey, I'm just not standing tall." Andrew straightened his back to show the older man his full height. They both exchanged praises and good-hearted insults. Leaving the bystanders confused as to what to do next. Andrew embraced the man which Uncle Rio returned.

"What are you doing as a debt collector?" Asked Andrew, ignoring the fact that two debt collectors laid unmoving on the ground. "Gosh, it's been so long. Last time we saw each other was..." Andrew snapped his fingers trying to recall the event. "You did your first performance at The Palace Hotel, yeah! You finally became a pianist just like you wanted, and I remember trying to buy a bottle of water with five pesos so they would let me see you. But they just let me in any way. That's why I've always had a soft spot for The Palace."

Uncle Rio had a sheepish look on his face as he glanced down on his feet. The once bright eyes Andrew remembered were shrouded in melancholy. His fingers ended up scratching his nape. "Mom got sick, and the hospital bills just kept piling up, so ended up taking on a loan that my dream job couldn't pay, so I ended up working for them instead. It wasn't called Torch back then."

"I'm sorry. Is your mom alright now?"

"She passed away," whispered Uncle Rio.

Andrew was crestfallen at the older man's fate, but Uncle Rio knocked his fist on Andrew's head.

"Don't look so sad," Uncle Rio chuckled. "I hear you work for some bigshot now. There's no trace of the dirty kid who used to play in the streets. What was the name of your boss again?"

"Allen Lopez." The name didn't come from Andrew's lips but from the leader of a dozen rugged men who had guns already pointed at all of them. Sonna, Clair, and Mike raised their hands in the air. Their faces morphed in fear. Things escalated rather quickly.

The leader, a man with an array of facial scars and a nasty gleam in his eyes, appeared from the dark corner of the building and called out Andrew with a drawl on his voice. "That dwarf there works for the fucking son of the building's owner."

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