Wednesday, May 21

Manners of the Unconventional Virgin: The Tiny Box

The weightlessness of air is filtered by the anemic saxophone of Kenny G. It isn't exactly a perfect soundtrack for an evening of romance. But for Monica, romance is either a remote idea or an unknown monster lurking underneath someone else's bed.

That possibly could change tonight. And she isn't comfortable about it.

"Is there something wrong with the decadence?" Jacque, in his usual natural charm, never fails to look after her.

Monica gave a look of feign content. Dessert was perfect, she told him. But reality was, she didn't seem to mind the flourless, overly rated house sweet specialty. Monica would have wished to have McFlurry Oreo on that fateful night, she later related to me.

Her eyes was wondering at the tiny box that sat on Jacque's left corner of the table. She doesn't have to be a magician to know what the fancy pink wrap hids. Normally, times like these, her previous dates would either give her gold earrings or diamond-studded pendants, or European royal brooches (or she hopes, the much talked-about Celestial diamond ring).

But her curiosity is beyond whatever expensive item that comes out of it. Her mind juggles between an anxious anticipation & the urge to embrace Jacque and a tactical exit to keep her out of his almost impossible-to-resist charm.

For Monica isn't used to kindness from men. Even from her family, she is seen as a strong, determined lady. Alienation would be too big a word but Monica seemed to have separated herself from any emotional attachments. To her, it is filial responsiblity. To her father & brother, she is a provider. Rightfully, respect is accorded rather than kindness.

Jacque moved the tiny box closer to her side. He didn't say a word. Just a soft smile that conveys sincerity & affection. And Monica knows this. And this is what she is afraid of.

"I wouldn't know how to begin, Monica," Jacque uttered as Monica slowly untied the silk ribbon off the tiny box.

Monica fought hard to keep a tear from falling. The overwhelming surprised was clearly painted on her face. And Jacque, faintly expecting this turn of events, was satisfied. He knew that eventually she will give in to him. And she will have her in full.

She put the box lightly on the table with the lid nowhere to be found. She didn't bother take the content off it. Instead, she gracefully took the last piece of the decadence and had her champagne. She was trying to find composure.

How did you like the gift, Jacque probed.

She let him ran his fingers against the delicate supple skin of her forearm. Jacque waited for an answer. She knew that her next words would be very important to the two of them.

"You know how much I like you. I never believed that I 'd be feeling this way again." Jacque couldn't hold it no longer. "I think I'm falling for you.

Monica took what would be her last champagne of the night before saying this to Jacque: " I am thankful to you for so many reasons. You just don't know how much this means to me.

You have a wife. And I don't want to know how your marriage is working out right now. However, you also know from the very beginning how this arrangement works."

She took a momentary paused and readied her pouch. She finally collected herself.

"For me, men are like rented DVDs. After 3 days, you return them. If they are hot, you can have them overnight. If it's a classic movie, you can always return to rent it. But you never get to own them at all."

She started to leave and gave Jacque a quick, unforgettable kiss on his lips.

Jacque remained on his seat. A mixture of confusion & frustration came his way. The tiny box with the key to the newly bought apartment glittered against the light. A conspicuous contrast to the unnecessary gloom that awaits ahead.

Saturday, May 10

Manners of the Unconventional Virgin

It must have been the windless night that made her uneasy.

She is supposed to be in her best element. The ornately designed interior of the restaurant seems to compliment the beige of her gown.

"The view of the harbor is breathtaking," she uttered mindlessly. And as the Frenchman took to notice how the view paled in comparison to her stunning beauty, she almost gave a shy smile.

It was a most reserved gesture for Monica. Something that she rarely gives with genuine intention. Growing up in an old, conservative neighborhood in Cebu, she was no stranger to the numbered gracefulness of her family.

That was history, she assured herself again. When she was about to finish her secondary education, her family lost their business and eventually their lifestyle.

Forced to such drastic change of environment, Monica has resorted to City College to buy herself an education to sustain her future.

Being the only woman in a family of pampered men, Monica has to look after her lowly brother & a desolate father. Her mother did not survive the crisis that led to a suicide. It was almost impossible for her to support a family which has nothing, even the will to hope.

She came to Singapore with the help of an old lover. For the longest time (I believe she was in her 2nd year of Hotel & Restaurant Management), she was the kept woman of a known Cebuano businessman. In a first class hotel in the Lion City (where she works as Front Desk officer), she met up the many men that have financially supported her & her family.

At one instance, I overheard her advise to her brother how to start up her planned business. You wouldn't hear her complain, it wasn't part of her system. She generously gave her time & life to them, silently hoping that one day they will all get back to their feet.

She was so determined to reach her goals that she valiantly fought any emotional attachments that might hinder her "relationships". She knew what she wanted from them, she knew why they needed her. It has to remain that way.

The look of old money is what you see when she walks the hallway. Her polite manners and grace would tell you of her upbringing. But she is scarred, deeply wounded. She just knows the way to step up her game.

But tonight, after nearly two months of seeing Jacque, she became unsure of her stance. It was complicated from the very beginning, she was aware. To her understanding, Jacque was just another "client".

Like most men she's been with, Jacque is another unhappily married lad. A man textured with so much need for a "real woman's" affection & constantly seeking for attention. That, in the grand scheme of things, is Monica's guide to master her art of war.

"Jacque has effortless elegance," she confided one day. "And yet, he seemed to exude the perennial tiring mosaic of the kind of man I dislike."

I see her struggle to reason against becoming the victim of her own war. When she speaks of Jacque of late, there is an indescribable strangeness to her tone. Something that borders between enthusiasm & fear.

to be continued