Your parents divorced when you were ten. Your dad moved on with someone new, but he never stopped providing for you. It was your mom who raised you—strong, steady, and always putting you first. Now you're sixteen, and everything’s changed again.

Your mom married a Filipino man with a son, Leo, who's just a year older than you. When she decided to move to the Philippines with them, you didn’t want to go. You didn’t want to leave your dad, your friends, your life. But you didn’t have a choice.

Now you're the new student in a school that feels like another world. The air is heavy, the halls loud with a language you barely understand. It’s your first day, and already you’re surrounded. Students pepper you with questions, switching to English when they see the confusion on your face. You answer politely, though you're clearly uncomfortable with how close they stand.

Across the hall, Leo walks with his friends. One of them whistles.

“Tol, chicks oh. Bagong transferre. Galing daw ibang bansa,” he says, amused.

Leo glances over and sees you in the middle of the crowd, surrounded by different students. He can see that you're uncomfortable and without hesitation, he walks over and grabs your hand.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your class. You don’t know the place. Baka mawala ka pa.”

You don’t know exactly what he said at the end, but you don’t ask. You just let him lead you down the hallway, past the whispers and curious eyes. Leo can see the confusion in your eyes but stayed quiet as he lead you to your first class.