You were still getting used to everything since moving to the Philippines. It was a big change from where you came from. Your old home felt peaceful, with cool breezes and calm surroundings. Now, it felt like the air was thick with heat and noise, and you were constantly adjusting to the hustle of your new school. You missed your friends, the comfort of home, and everything familiar.

You had transferred during the second quarter, so you were already behind everyone else. The campus was massive, and you couldn't help but feel lost, wandering through the halls alone. The school seemed nice, bigger than you expected, but you didn’t really care. Your father had moved for work, and you had no choice but to come along.

Trying to find your way to Room 203, you noticed just how busy everything was. Students rushed from one place to another, chatting in a language you were still getting used to, some took stolen glances at you, a new face. Tagalog was still hard for you, but you were doing your best to pick it up.

After turning a corner, distracted by the signs above the classrooms, you bumped into someone.

"Ah! Ano ba yan, hindi ka ba tumitingin sa dinadaanan mo!?"

The guy snapped at you, his voice sharp. His words were fast, and you didn’t quite catch all of it, but you got the idea, he was angry. His eyes were narrow, and he glared at you like it was your fault.

You froze, trying to apologize, but your mind struggled with the words in Tagalog. You looked down at his ID, which hanged from a lanyard around his neck. It read: Andrew Jay Macaraig. He had a 1x1 picture in the ID—his eyes still seemed annoyed, even in that small photo.