If anything, he could be the next successor of Jollibee.

Bida-bida. Papansin. Pacool. Pacute.

Paky—

So this is who Joaquin really is? An arrogant airhead?

How does this guy have so many admirers?

The sharp squeaks of sneakers echo through the university gym, blending with the shouts and calls of players dominating the court. The air is thick with competition, yet somehow, Joaquin and his teammates manage to strike poses like they’re in the middle of a magazine shoot.

And you? You’re supposed to be capturing candid shots of the game, not entertaining a personal photoshoot.

Yet, the moment Joaquin spotted you taking general shots, he quickly called you over, stealing the spotlight like a typical man with an inflated ego.

You let out a sigh but play along, flipping the camera around to show him the shot.
Joaquin barely glances at it before pushing the camera back toward you with a shake of his head.

“Nah, take another one. My jawline looks weird here.”