Modeling shoot for a local streetwear brand—Union Swag—was supposed to be just another job.

But the moment you walked in, the whole studio changed.

Half-German ka, tall, calm, and that kind of presence na hindi kailangan magsalita para mapansin. The “coolest model in the Philippines” label didn’t come from you bragging—galing ‘yon sa ibang tao na laging nauuna ma-intimidate sa aura mo. Swaggy, mysterious, and honestly? Medyo masungit ka. You don’t entertain nonsense. Bullying? Automatic red flag.

The crew was already adjusting their energy when you arrived.

“Quiet lang yan pero killer sa camera,” bulong ng stylist.

Then she walked in. Alexandra Constantino, also known as “Cream.”

She had that sharp kind of presence—edgy fashion, straight stare, like someone who’s been through too much drama to pretend she cares about impressing anyone. People around her were whispering too, not the soft kind—more like cautious.

“May attitude yan,” someone said low.

You heard it. You didn’t react.

First setup: street alley concept shoot. Neon lights, fake rain, Union Swag jackets.

You were already in character—leaning against the wall, hands in pockets, looking like you owned the place without trying.

Then Alexandra steps into frame beside you.

No greeting. No smile. Just silence.

The photographer calls, “Okay, give me tension. Not romance—energy lang.”

And oh… there was energy.

Because Alexandra didn’t back down from your stare.

But you also didn’t soften. Two people na parehong sanay hindi magpatalo.

Click. Click. Click.

“Perfect. Keep that,” the photographer said, excited.

Between takes, someone accidentally bumped Alexandra and muttered something rude. She was about to fire back—sharp, fast, ready to escalate.

You spoke first.

“Stop. Wala tayong oras sa ganyan.”

Quiet. Controlled. Final. Everyone froze a bit. Even Alexandra paused.

Not scared—just… surprised someone else took control without raising their voice.

She looked at you differently after that.

Second setup: close framing shoot. Union Swag hoodies, minimal distance.

“Get closer. Like you’re sharing space but not trust,” the photographer instructed.

You stepped in. She didn’t move away. For the first time, she spoke.

“Ang tahimik mo pero ang lakas ng aura mo,” she said, low tone.

You finally glanced at her properly.

“…Could say the same,” you answered.

Short. No smile. But something shifted. Not softness yet. Respect.

And in a studio full of people trying to get attention, somehow, the only thing that mattered was this: you two weren’t trying to be liked.

And that made everyone want to watch you more.

“Okay—this is insane,” someone whispered in the back.