Chapter Nine

Dominic

I felt some type of way after leaving Ozzy abruptly just after getting probably the only chance to get to know him in the several months that I've known him. He seemed like a genuine person who just happens to have witnessed me get flirty with everyone else, and he still wants to sit down, grab a beer, and talk to me.

I arrived at the airport an hour early, to my surprise, and I wouldn't say I liked that. I didn't want to wait an hour before boarding that damn plane, most definitely because I'm way too afraid to board the flight that I just want to shut my eyes and walk straight ahead to meet my demise. That one-hour leeway is exactly unnecessary that it just created a lot more time for me to be stressed out for overthinking. I'm not too fond of the idea of brainstorming for the list of things that I should expect back home, and yet I did it. The first thought that came into my mind is that do people still remember Dominic Warren as Dominic Warren? I hope that they don't know me as the horrible person that cold-heartedly shattered someone's heart in front of the whole campus. I doubt it, though, that mortifying scenario must have been one of the best and gag-worthy dramas that they have witnessed in their boring high school life and that it probably has been painted in the streets of their respective memory lanes. The second thought that came into my mind is, do people still remember Dominic Warren at all? I've been missing in action for the last five years and six months, and on a personal level, I think that that's enough timeframe to forget someone without really forgetting them. I didn't want to think about it anymore, so I kept myself distracted from running through several scenarios on my mind that would've probably killed me. However, I just had this brief wishful thought that I should've probably had some plastic surgery, maybe alter some of my facial features so that no one will recognize me on the spot. Still, then that wishful thought was just obliterated by another idea that it only all comes down to the real thing and that's moving on. Have I really moved on? 

Yes.

Probably.

I don't know, but I have to suck this uncomfortable feeling up and try to see how things will roll. Still waiting to board the plane, I spent the rest of my time to gather at least some background information from everyone back home by stalking their social media accounts. I haven't done this for a while, and I'm just so eager to know what everyone's been doing, what's keeping them busy, and whatnot. A lot of things can happen in the timeline of five years, some people may say that five years is just a short time for such a giant leap of change, but I say it's totally enough for someone to be broken and then heals and ultimately become a better version of themselves. I missed Yhannie so freakin' much that I just have to stalk her first above everyone else. However, that's where the problem introduces itself. After everything, I was that irrational human being that didn't want to listen to anyone involved in breaking Valentine. I just envied her so much early on that I became purely unreasonable and unfriended her on Facebook and unfollowed her on Instagram without second thoughts, so now, I can only see tagged photos of hers. Three tagged photos show her partying and living her life as usual like there's nothing really surprising about that. She's with what seems to be her circle of friends now, but all three photos looked like they're just from the same night, so I can't really tell if she continued her party all night lifestyle during her college years. Another tagged photo shows her with her parents on a trip to Disney land. Nothing is exciting about that other than a happy family on a happy trip. Another one showed her having a slumber party with many of what I reckon to be her girlfriends. I'm really limited to Yhannie's profile, so I don't really have many photos enough to paint a picture of where she's at now. Zach apparently followed his heart's desire and became so adventurous that almost all of his images were about several extreme adventures from bungee jumping to sky diving to motor racing and those kinds of stuff. I felt somehow envious of how Zach is living his life. He's living like there's no fuckin' tomorrow. Ivan is now obsessed with coffee shops and based upon the photos I've seen. He just opened his very own coffee shop, which is totally great for him since he's also a bit of a business-minded person.

Going through Lance's Instagram account brought back memories of him being secretly in love with me. He definitely became much more like a man in the physical aspect than before, and he is now engaged with a lot of musical stuff. He still continued uploading short covers of songs, and I can tell that his singing voice had the best improvement and is now actually super polished than it was when we were still in high school. He has his own band now, and I can't help but be genuinely happy at where he is now.

It was hard to type Valentine's name, but I just have to check on him like what I've been doing every three months in the last five years. I have to be honest, I missed him so freakin' much, probably I've missed him the most than Yhannie, but there's just this feeling of guilt that keeps on repelling my urge to check on him. It felt like a storm just attacked a portion of the country when I saw him post a lot of selfies with a baby. A fucking baby, of all the things. That's the last thing that I would've to expect to see on his Instagram. It indeed gave me an uncomfortable feeling of, I guess, hurt and confusion, and I don't like any of it. Forgive my thoughts, and I don't want to put it that way. I'm thinking, did he just got someone pregnant? I think I'm about to pass out.

I took the great pleasure of turning my phone off as I was boarding the plane. I'm not yet ready for this burning reality, but I have to be prepared, and I will be prepared. My seat was in between a middle-aged man who looked like a pervert who snores and an old lady who won't literally stop talking. At first, my mind thought it would be a great beguilement to be in between these two delightful characters and that they will surely guarantee me being occupied, but it got really messy when I tried to get some sleep. The old lady named Lissa, who obviously has the most common name for an old lady with the only exception of having a double "s" in her name, and I spent the first one hour discussing everything about her only son, who is actually bloody hot. My initial plan was just to let Lissa open her mouth and talk and talk, basically telling me how she raised his only son without a father while working three jobs just to make ends meet, but I got myself involved when he showed me photos of his son, Lyndon.

"Ohh damn, your son is so fine," I cried out at her, quickly grabbing her phone to make a perfect look at the man. "His dad must've been a total stud" I scrolled and scrolled and scrolled, just looking intricately at Lyndon, and I figured, it's not raining, but someone's basement is getting flooded.

"Oh, for sure, but I don't really know his dad. I slept with a lot of hot guys back in the day, but I don't really know which one of them that got me pregnant."

"Really?" This lady is just serving me pure entertainment, and I hate to admit it, but she got me hooked up with her life. 

"You know, back in my younger days, I'm exactly what they call a naughty kind of woman. I lived, and I came and just fucked around like I don't care about anything" Lissa delivered that unapologetically on point. Staring at her wrinkled features, she most definitely had been a damn hot bombshell that men sought for in her youth.

"And you really did not care about looking for his dad?"

"I mean, I kind of did look for the father for some time, but you know, I've been....." She paused and looked at me.

"You've been what?" I said after noticing that she had already paused for a long moment.

"I've been, you know..........., a slut" Lissa spat and followed it up with a chuckle.

"Hahahaha" She's definitely a slut. "Yeah, you are," I mumbled.

"It's okay that I say the word slut, right?" She asked.

"Oh yeah, a dirty, untidy woman. Yeah, haha."

"Oh, hahaha, you're one funny man, but yes, dear, I was that woman, and so I eventually gave up on looking for his dad."

"But you raised him pretty well," I muttered, returning her phone to her.

"I did raise my baby well. My parents did not know about him until he was already five. I ran away from home and raised him by myself, which is the hardest part of my life."

"Wow, that's really something," I thought that this conversation would be one of those type of conversation you had with a random stranger that is worth forgetting in the next few hours. Still, I just realized that I am having a genuine conversation with a strong and independent woman. I didn't care for her slutty past but being a single mother is one of the noblest things that I completely adore.

"It was definitely hard being a single mom. I thought that I did not have it in me and that this is the curse of being a naughty woman who played the field so much, but I did not give up and pulled through it."

"Yes, you definitely did," I nodded in pure admiration.

The plane had just landed, and even though I'm not yet ready to face the truth, Lissa's story just taught me once a clear lesson that sometimes it is okay that you don't have to be prepared. You have to have the bravery to face the effects of the problem that you created. In her situation, she's a naughty girl who basically did a lot of bad things and just fucked around. She wasn't even ready to the world of motherhood and be disowned by her parents, but she did what she could at a time without being afraid of anything. She wasn't afraid to raise her baby alone, she found the right courage to face life itself, and she found her footing and came through. For me, I just have to face this fucking reality. Whether I'm ready or not, I just have to muster enough courage and bravery to show up in court and be judged by everyone else who wants to judge me. I have to own the aftermaths of the things I did, and whatever happens, I hope it happens for a reason.

My mom was supercharged at the fact that I'm already coming home after several years that she even brought a sizeable welcoming poster with my name on it with her and raised it while waiting for me to show up. This is so freakin' embarrassing. I huffed the moment I saw the poster. I know she missed me so much, but this is actually too much to bear. I quickly grabbed a sunglass and covered my mouth with a muffler just so they won't recognize me, which is very much sufficient. I did my best to keep my cool as if I don't know them as I passed right in front of them. I'm pretty sure that my sister would still recognize me even with a sunglass on and a muffler to my mouth, but it's such a relief that she is pretty much tied up with her phone that she did not give a shit about me. My mom is probably still looking for the old Dominic, that skinny boy who cared so much about his skin, and that's maybe why she did not see me slip by so easy in front of her.

I stood just far enough at their backs to see their reaction once they realize that there's no Dominic to be seen. Hell, that would've been satisfying for me. All of the passengers have already walked out, but they did not see what they came for, which is me. My mom was about to stir up some drama as she folds the poster that she made when Lissa shouted my name.

What the actual fuck.

"Dominic!!" She was waving in my direction, and that's when my mom knew where I was the whole time.

"Uhm, hey, Lissa," I said, waving back to her.

My mom just ran towards where I was standing and welcomed me with the biggest hug that I undoubtedly and unquestionably missed for the last five years. My sister was just tailing her. She was tearing up like how she tears up every time we watch that animated movie Up, the one with the house and the balloons.

"I almost thought that you weren't on that plane," She said, releasing a breath of relief.

"I was just playing around, I actually passed right in front of you, and you did not see me," I confessed as I hugged her back.

"Sweetie, that was so rude of you."

"You aged, mom," I remarked after getting a better look at her face. For the first time in years, I have seen the first evidence of ageing in my mom's face. Maybe it's the grey streaks in her hair, but it would've also been the crease on her forehead that made it so obvious.

"Sweetie, that's sweet. I haven't seen you in five long years, and that's the first thing you notice from me,"

"Actually, the first thing that I noticed is this young lady here," I said, finally giving attention to Collene, who's just been so quiet the whole time.

"Oh"

"How'd you grew up so fast, and you look like a younger version of mom" I mouthed at Collene.

"Ew, no one says that," Collene spat in response, momentarily shifting her eyes to me, rolling it as if she's that bitch, and then quickly back to her phone.

"What's the deal with her?" I turned to face my mom to where she replied, "puberty" just by her lips.

I did not have much of a choice but to introduce Lissa to my mom, and we basically had to give her a ride since her son couldn't make it on time to pick her up. She offered and insisted on treating us with food at a fine dining restaurant mostly for the reason that I kept her great company while on the plane before finally splitting up.