Something That Will Last

Prologue

☕️

What Label Is

Label \'lā-bel\
noun
:a word or phrase that describes or identifies something or someone

Label in a sentence: Jerrick is an ass of a guy who spoils relationship because of his irrational opposition of labeling what we were and what we had! (Svck it up, asshole!)

I crumpled the paper and threw it in the trash can. Sinipulan ako ni Kurt pagkapasok niya sa shotgun ng sasakyan.

"Another one? Ang yaman naman ng ex-girlfriend mo sa ink! Halos araw araw ay may printed love letter ka."

"Hindi ko 'yon ex," matabang kong sagot. "Dadaan ba sa Mostaccio?"

"No coffee for me all week! I pulled an all-nighter last night. Kulang na lang ay mag-palpitate ako habang tulog sa dami ng kapeng tinimpla ni Zara!"

"Dude, studying? That a new hobby of yours? Hanggang kailan mo 'yan kaaaliwan?" I mocked.

Lumiko kami papasok ng campus. Maraming estudyante ang naglalakad papasok kaya kinailangan kong bagalan ang pagmamaneho.

Relationship just wasn't my thing. Forget the story where I transformed into a monster that I am today because of some heartbreak I went through. No, it wasn't like that. But really, I'm not that of a monster.

You wanna know why? Simple. There are two kinds of people who plays the game. The broken-hearted, and the heartbreaker—a way too obvious answer. If you're not going to be the one that's gonna break hearts, then it is yours that might get shattered a hundred times beyond repair.

Come to think of it, I choose to be in between. But nah, I'm more on the Person H side. And in my defense, it's not even my fault anyway.

But 'ya know, people, I honestly know that at some point in my life will arrive the day of the epiphany. And I didn't know that it was this terribly soon after I realized how cringe-worthy being in a relationship was.

And that was actually the same day that I hated my favorite coffee at my favorite café—Mostaccio.

"One cappuccino, babe," I ordered using my usual saccharine tone without looking at the barista.

"Ano? One gagoccino?"

I almost ripped a 500-peso bill upon hearing the snarky remark of the barista in front of the cash register. I whipped my head up to look at her and realized that she's not some kind of girl with a heart I could easily bag home.

"Ano ulit 'yon, Miss?" I asked. I had to be sure, I might've heard it wrong.

I came from wild party and I think I was still under a mild influence of that killer-madafucca-alcohol my best friend forced down my throat last night.

"Wala po, Sir. One cappuccino coming right up," she smiled gorgeously. Woah. Damn those eyes! If my head wasn't killing me this much, I knew I already got her number saved in my phone by this time.

Since I didn't think I could last another minute standing in line I took a seat and slumped my head on the table. I gotta kill Marco for giving such fuckin' potent drink!

I told him I have two exams today and I have to at least be fifty percent sober to pass those. But if people were to analyze the percentage right now, they'd say I'm a little over seventy-five percent inebriated. Heck that's dangerous enough for me and my grades! I'm not that conscious about it, but I'm already graduating so the pressure was definitely there.

Crap! Ano ba 'to?

Why do I feel extremely hot on the head?

I heard the noises of suppressed laughter and chorus of gasps when I jerked awake at the contact of the hot coffee cascading down my neck. I looked up, very much annoyed, ready to face the douch—

Shit, no. This was the gorgeous lady that I was all up to place in a pedestal, well, only if she wasn't this vile.

"I'm sorry, sir. Accident," she apologized in the most creative way I've ever seen in my life. Her theatrical voice was soft and full of staged guilt. She tried to appear as if she was sorry but what I've seen on her face didn't match her words. Gusto pa niyang tumawa, I could tell.

Inabutan niya ako ng tissue, wala naman akong magawa kundi ayusin lang ang sarili ko.

"It's fine," I answered, trying to keep my cool rather than drag her outside and plump her lips using mine. Because right now that's what I really want to do as a little compensation.

"I'm gonna go get another one, Sir."

"Please. I'll be outside," I informed—I squinted to read her name tag—Viv.

I didn't get out right away because of my throbbing head. I spent the next few minutes thinking what Viv was short for. My first shot was Vivien because that's pretty obvious. And the second... nah, I got nothing.

When I finally considered standing up, the gorgeous Viv came back in the scene. I smiled weakly but only to be showered by another frickin' hot cappuccino.

Coffee. On. My. Fcuking. Favorite. Shirt.

"That's it! What the heck is your problem?" I pretty sure that's what I asked... right?

I was perfectly sane given that I was seventy-five percent wasted. Okay, maybe not perfectly, but I was alright. I even approached Viv in the most calm tone I could muster. But you know what I received?

A slap.