𝐿𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒜𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓁

P R O L O G U E

(Y / N) 's POV *

I looked at myself one last time in the mirror, taking one of my colored ribbons, this time of beige color, combined with my uniform; precisely my light khaki checkered skirt, and a pair of simple hair clips.
"(y / n)! Iniintay ka na ni (n / m / f)!" [(y / n)! (n / m / f) is already waiting for you)] my mother screamed from downstairs. I could hear the voice of (n / m / f), probably pretending embarrassment while my mother was offering him breakfast. (n / m / f), aka my best friend, was a born eater. I was amazed that he ate rice everyday without rolls of flab popping up.
"I'm coming down!" I screamed. I took my bottle of (f / d) and put it inside my backpack and quickly went downstairs. Immediately the smell of fried rice, fried eggs and Tocino flooded my nostrils, and as I expected, there was my best friend who gorged himself on food prepared by my mother, sitting on one of the wooden chairs. I chuckled sitting next to him.

"How are you (n / m / f)?" I asked, while I was putting some rice on my plate and a couple of bull's-eye eggs. I bet he would have told about Jennie, the girl he liked and the message she sent to him last night. He turned to me with his usual big smile, and pointed to the phone next to him "Jowaaa" gave me a slight blow on my shoulder, looking at me with a winning smile on his face.
Had Jennie Clare Aquino, the captain of the volleyball team, become the girlfriend of my best friend? Wow! What a scoop !.
" E di wow!" I joked, hitting him on the arm, only to receive a tongue from him.
" Hoy! Alam ba ng nanay mo? Talaga ang mga bata na 'to...study first!" My mother reproach, entered in our conversation, placing two cups of water in front of us, before picking up the empty dishes where there was still food before.
The food that was eaten (n / m / f).

My mother has always been particular. Well yes, she always remains like the other Filipino mothers but she had something that made her special; She loved Italian culture, always had the vice of cursing in Italian and, above all, she was not afraid to tell me that I was adopted. Yes, it was really strange at first, but then you get used to it even if you are curious about who your biological family is. Above all who they are and where they come from.
" Bilis (y / n)! Myghad ma l-late na tayo eh." My best friend nudged me in an attempt to speed me up as he drank the remaining water in his glass and stood up. He looked at me as if his life depended on it.
" Oo na! I'm hurrying!" I grabbed my backpack that was on the ground a little while ago and ran away with my best friend.
" Be careful!" I heard my mother scream behind, before closing the door.

" Tanga! Takbo!" I yelled at my best friend who was slowing down. I had told him not to gorge himself like a pig and now he is dying in the middle of the small street from acute liver pain. Gago. "IT HURTS." He yelled back, pointing to his hips with a generic gesture. I chuckled taking his bag over my shoulder.
" I'll bring the backpack, come on." I said, starting to walk again, hearing a; " Thanks Bazzy..." from (n / m / f).
I kept looking at the time on my watch, and if we don't be there in fifteen minutes, well, we will be dead. In this case (n / m / f) will be chased by his mother with a broom in his hand.
"Bazzy..." my best friend called, in an instant the extra weight on my shoulder disappeared and i see that Donut had recovered and had accelerated his step.
" The last one will make libre!" And with that he ran. Idiot. I sighed, rolling my eyes but I ran after him...after all he still had to pay me back for the bubble tea that i had offered to him.
" TANGINA MO DONUT YOU MUST REPAY ME!".

   -ROME-

" get rid of the shit." The boy said coldly, adjusting his jacket that kept him warm as he walked quietly with his hands in his pockets, as if nothing had happened, followed by his assistant, Chiara. "Mr. Vargas..." The assistant said hesitantly, barely keeping up. She frantically searched for his day card, everything he should have done that day. Everything that grandpa had decided he should do that day. That is, studying languages, English, French, Spanish, German and Chinese. Especially one language is Filipino. Her mother's language. One thing the grandson himself had decided. "What shit! I don't want to spend all my time studying..." he growled, entering in the black limousine. He was always busy, from morning to night. Study, study and just study! It was what he was forced to do. He would not have been the first in his school had he not been forced to study like crazy by his grandfather, morning and evening.

" Signorino -..." "shut up." Chiara was immediately interrupted, roughly by the boy who took a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket, and lit it, ignoring the glare that his assistant gave him. After all the times she had seen him smoke, the woman remained silent, without saying anything. Maybe that was why he hadn't fired her yet.
" I-I have information if you're interested." She said, knowing perfectly well that she had hit on an important topic for him. He turned to the woman, with a serious look, and the woman knew that it was better not to joke with him when he had that look. He looked at the cigarette a few times before throwing it out the window. "Okay! Fuck...tell me everything." The woman pulled out a photo, the image of a girl. There was something about her that didn't make her look completely Filipino. She was wearing a school uniform and the photo showed half of her body, the upper part. Luciano looked carefully at the photo only to sigh, defeated, by the fact that it was probably not her. There was nothing familiar in her.

" And okay...if it's probably her, well we'll go to Manila again -..." "Actually it's not in Manila that the girl is but in Calamba" the boy looked at her again, nodding. "Pack me my suitcases as soon as we get home."

——————————————————

aHeyyy here I am with the first chapter! :)
I don't know when I will update Disfunctional family sowwyyy :(