Chapter 1
Janine (Ja-nin) Mantilla
"You can be with a Filipina when your income threshold is 5 million yen. Isn’t that a good deal, Eli-chan? I heard you, Filipina, are caring.”
Oh shit, ojii-san. You still mutter these words to yourself? You couldn't even rotate your hips without cracking your tailbone these days.
I let out my very demure smile and slowly poured him a drink. "Oh, they're caring. It's special just for you.” I giggled. “Though, I find it contradictory, Ito-san. No money, no honey as they say. What if this drink now costs about 5 million yen? You know, inflation?"
Ito-san's face sobered and gave a fleeting wink. "Don't worry about it, Eli-chan. I could afford any drink with a fresh dew of honey in front of me like you."
Oh god...
Please open up the earth and swallow me whole, Kami-sama. The ground can eat me alive like the days of Moses and Aaron.
Wallowing my misery is for later, however. Fuck it.
I made a theatrical expression of surprise and flipped my hair to show my cleavage out. "Ito-san~" I waved my wrist away, fluttering my eyelashes like a moe try-hard who suddenly got shy because she's flattered. "You don't have to."
"I wanted to. Bring me another drink."
Yeah? Keep the money coming, papa katsu. I blinked in surprise and clapped my hand. "Kanpai!"
And so, our conversation pivoted to have his belly bloated with cheers as the flow of his drinks kept going until he's passed out drunk. All of his kōhais have to drag him out of the pub.
My mom later came while I was fixing the wasted table after our business hours. "You got the favors of that senior executive, Janine. That's good. He has some deep pockets."
"That man's appraising me for around 5 million yen, mom. No thanks."
My mom instead let out those wads of cash and counted. "He gave you a tip. Fair enough. Check yourself from time to time and not give yourself away, yes? I know you're brewing with that attitude of yours."
I hang my shoulders to an almost shrug. "He can't keep his hands to himself!"
But mom only clucks a sound. "There are many ways to make money, dear. You either do a 9-5 job somewhere at a konbini or go triple just by pouring that man a drink."
"And get your thigh squeezed in return? What if I hustle hard and do things like those Minato-ku girls?"
My mom shrugged. "Why not? If you want to be treated like someone with an expiration date. You're still young, however. Try it out on your own."
Instead of responding, I crossed my arms and sulkily leaned myself on the chair. The floor manager, Mama-san, approached us as she began to give everyone some instructions.
"And what are you still doing here, Janine? Fix that table now."
"Mama-san~" I remember those cliché lines I've read in Tiktok comments. "It feels like I'm falling in love with my client."
Mama-san was obviously annoyed. "And who would that be if I might ask?"
"That would be me," a grounded voice suddenly barged alongside a creaking door.
"We're closed—" Mama-san halted when she saw who came approaching at our spot. But she eventually dropped her words. "Oh."
"The fuck you doing here? You're ruining my moment." I snapped at him when he slumped down across my seat and tipped his chin briefly.
"Easy, hot-tempered Pina. I came to check my girlfriend? Duh."
I shuddered and glared at this dude sporting a black cap. "Man, Masato, you unhinged crap. I know you still got the hots with that childhood Yumeko kawaii chick of yours. Get out of here."
He found his composure then crossed his arms, examining long enough somewhere around me. "Actually..." He began as if he's in a serious meditation, he lowered his head and murmured. "She texted. Did our pseudo-romance work?" When he looked up, he retained that contemplative countenance.
This guy's face looked as if he's carrying the burden of global warming all by himself.
"You try me being a mind reader, boy. Do I look like a dating expert?" I retorted, bored.
Masato didn't respond. Instead, he only looked. As in, stared at me beyond the bearable seconds. This is his own way to irritate. Now, he's getting on my nerves.
"What?" I complained.
"I'm having doubts about this arrangement if it ever works at all."
I raised both my hands in surrender. "I'm having doubts either. What the hell are you doing here again? There's no need to keep up with appearances when your first love isn't even looking."
He sighed and leaned on the sofa. "Have you ever heard the word ‘basic consideration,’ Janine?"
”Yeah, I did,” I agreed curtly. “It's the brand of the paper wipes I usually flush to the toilet.”
“No wonder you behave like shit right now.”
I laughed and cursed at him. Sighing, my smile lingered languidly when I rested my head at the back of the sofa in indolence. "I can be whatever you want, Sakurai-san. You can do whatever you like with me," rolling these words out as a joke.
This guy is a high-spec but an idiot coward. Fresh out as my fellow university dōki, this guy got his stylish everyday wear. Clean aesthetic on his side and a black watch to keep track of his seminars and coursework.
What I like about Masato is that he can be utilized. A coward who keeps tripping his inability to confess his feelings for this childhood friend of his and an unapologetic asshole. He yearns for this Yumeko chick so bad, but has enough time to double his priorities and mess around with a Filipina working part-time at a P-pub.
I mean, my boy, make up your damn mind. Don't be so indecisive like a celebrity drama. You can't have your Mary Madonna just so you can keep chasing a Mary Magdalene. This boy wants his cake and eats it too.
But we revolve in the same campus anyway. The only reason he sees me in this P-pub is because of a single incident with his friends who made an outrageous prank and dared to go to the seediest place in Shinjuku. And who do they have there? Voilà, moi.
I made this campus boy so drunk he started storytelling his life. I even managed to swipe whatever card he gave me that time. Cha-ching, everybody.
But once sobered a month later, a shit called coincidence made our respective campus lives a blur. This asshole saw me one day, and he remembered every awkward and cringe shit he spilled himself. The audacity that he demanded silence from me.
"Jerk, I don't even know you," I said, when I swatted his hand away. This guy dragged me somewhere at a corner of a vacant classroom. "Don't make this a big deal yourself. For real? You can just forget it and pretend it didn't happen. No need to talk to me."
"Ano... Masato-kun..." I turned around and saw a girl with long black hair. She was standing at the door with her shoes, which is a two-toned Chanel that pops in color while she's holding paper stacks in one arm. She blinked in that bewildered face, riveting her gaze both at our directions. "I just came to check if I left something in this room. Is something going on?"
"A!" This guy chuckled. Approaching the girl at the door. "Betsuni. We've gotten too early for our class. I'm asking about my classmate's last seminar's progress. Yumeko-chan," his voice clipped as he stood in front of her, “where did you leave your stuff?"
The heck? This boy and I don't even share the same program. But this boy's enthusiasm suddenly animated to a cheerful degree.
Oh... So that's why. I remembered things. I restrained my amusement. He was this guy who had gotten so drunk his words were slurred and it kept spurting too much emphasis to his mora. And it's all about this girl: Yumeko, Yumeko. This dude recited her name like a vow.
"Whatever you're at, I'm out of here. Case in point though, I don't know you so don't talk to me," I said, waving my hand as I began to walk away.
Until suddenly I heard him chuckle again, "Babe, wait.” There were footsteps rushing behind me, an arm was hooked around my neck. "Don't sulk, please? We still haven't decided where we're going after class,” he spoke above my head.
The girl rounded her eyes. "Is she... Masato-kun, you’re girlfriend?”
“Meet my girlfriend, Yumeko-chan. Eli,” he kept going.
Oh, shit…
I was dumbfounded. I watched this Yumeko chick get flustered.
“O-oh.” She giggled nervously. “I didn't know that. Hajimemashite, Eli-san.” She gave me a bow.
How did I get involved in this?
When the Yumeko girl left afterwards from a little chit-chat with this bloke, finding that no stuff was left in this room, I ended up aghast. “What the fuck, man? You like her, don't you?”
He lowered his hooked arm to my shoulders. “Tell you what, how about you do a good job to be my poster somebody and we can strike a deal?”
My ears ring at that. Shit, is he talking about money?
“As long as I'm not selling my organs to a black market. Deal.”
“You will act as my doting girlfriend.”
I stared at him long enough. Before I became aware of my facial muscles, my mouth already formed a grimace alongside my disgusted face. “Ha?”
“While Yumeko is still around, you do it. I pay. Set your own deal.”
“Five million yen.” But I have to make a gesture as if I'm thinking hard. I removed his arm and turned around to face him. While I'm thinking, before raising my index finger, I exclaimed. “A-ha! How ‘bout this?”
I flipped my middle finger instead before walking away.
But weeks later, my seatmate talked to me. “Hi, Janine,” came a warm greeting behind me. “I like your eco-bag.”
I turned around to see a boy with bleached hair and a round face possessing soft features to make my day brighter.
“Hi, Jackson!” I beamed. “So… have you listened to the podcast?”
“Yep. I think the protagonist really should've made a different decision. The explanation behind it didn't make sense.”
I let my mouth hang. “E? I don't think so... I beg to differ, it is what it is because it makes more sense—”
“That's fatalistic.”
“No.” I shook my head vigorously. “No, no and no.”
Jackson chuckled with such a cheerful attentiveness it made my heart swell. Be still, my heart. Jackson is watching me.
And so I talked and talked while classes hadn't begun yet, until I asked him about his vacation in Taiwan. Our chat later turned mellow. I took the audacity to ask what type of girls he's usually attracted to.
“Hmm, I think the innocent ones. The pure girls. I don't know. I'm not really sure.”
“You’re not kidding, are you?” My disbelief rose. "Jackson, you're not a member of the LGBTQ community, are you?”
Jackson leaned away, quite taken aback. “The community is there, for sure. I'm hetero and straight as it gets though, Janine.”
But why?! Out of all girls, why do boys always love the innocent?!
After that, I was sulking. I'm internally disappointed and disparaged. What type of girl? Like that Yumeko chick?
Then bam! A bright idea came to mind. So I started asking for Masato’s whereabouts from the registry office and continued to keep asking when I reached their building. Until I'm face to face with him again. One of his eyebrows was faintly raised, and that subtle vindication was served by a haughty look and stiff chin.
“Gomene, Eli-chan. If you still have the guts to come back abashed with your tail low and hidden, I don't offer my generous deal twice. You were saying?”
“You discount your offers now?”
“Well, there's no guarantee. Especially if my proposal is met by such an unsavory appeal.”
“Ha?” My face was more confused this time. “Can you speak plainly? It seems your high language couldn't reach a tanin like me.”
Masato ignored what I just said. “It's fascinating you still have the audacity to come back, and I haven't changed my plans yet. Acknowledging that you left a bad taste in my mouth, I'm still considerate enough to maybe open my offer. But this time, at a lower discount.”
“How much?”
“Seven hundred thousand yen.”
“Can I even survive in Tokyo with that? I want to negotiate, Sakurai-san. You see, I finally realized the value of your offer. Let's talk somewhere more private.”
And there we struck a deal. After some long negotiation, it was some bilateral talk (I guess).
I'd be Masato's doting girlfriend while I have to learn what type of style an innocent and pure girl would be like in his point of view, so that I can use it for Jackson. The maniacal laugh bursted inside my own head.
I can't wait!
Jackson, you'll see a pure girl in this chick.
Masato, meanwhile, will simply have to pay half of my tuition. That's where my part-time earnings go. Obviously…
“So I'm like a Minato-ku girl, Sakurai-san?”
“You are, in fact, in Minato campus every weekday. If the shoe fits,” he jabbed.
“Fine!” I said anyway inside this rented conference room. “I'll take that scrap of 700,000 yen you offered, but don't expect I'd spend my full time with you.”
He sighed as he swung his rolling chair sideways, lightly scratching the table with his hand. He made that serious expression again, as if pondering everything like he's solving global poverty.
I can't believe I'll be in the company of this guy who looks like he's drowning. Everything for him is deep thoughts. Why can't he be like Jackson? Jackson whose laugh is so light-hearted. Jackson whose humor is so cute. Jackson with a cheerful face that's so cute.
My mind sparked. Oh… Jackson.
Jackson! Yes, wait for me, ne? Let me just train myself to be a very demure, very pure and very innocent girl for you… hihi.
I started hanging out with Masato soon after, learning our full name and just randomly walking during whatever time our schedule met so that we could be seen by Yumeko. I grabbed this guy's arm even if he froze like a statue when I did so.
I could've asked more of Yumeko’s context just to place myself better in this arrangement, but it's not like Masato is the type of guy who talks when sober. Please… this guy has more adhesive tape in his mouth than a sticker on a wall.
But I'm in for the money. If I get the chance and perform well, I will double my stake on the price. He can screw it all up since he's a coward.
Reverting back to the present, I made a style check on Masato's nightwear today, and his outfit was minimal as always.
“Now that I think about it,” he said, leaning down and mindlessly arranging the cups that are scattered on the table. “I just got back from a business symposium near here a while ago. Bothered myself to drop by. I have a social event next week, are you available? Clear up your future schedule if you can.” He then ordered a drink from Mama-san.
My mouth twisted to skepticism. “Will your Yumeko darling be showing up there too?”
“Seems like it.”
Gosh, I made a mental eye-roll. First world problems.
“Yo, if she texted, that's it. Why do you have to read too much into it? How's that my business? I want to learn more of why you like her since I'm using it for my crush. Not me predicting her intentions.”
Masato's order came, served by my mother as she gave me a quick and reproachful look. “Don't start now,” her eyes seem to imply.
Masato scrunched questionably his brows as he was about to pour his drink. But he halted and fixed his seat, gesturing to me with his drinking glass at the bottle instead. “Would you mind? Now, why would you use Yumeko-chan as a benchmark?”
I glared at him when I reached out to begrudgingly pour him a drink. Asshole.
“What's the catch? Should I go for a flowy dress? Chiffon dress? How should I present myself?”
Masato, who is now taking a drink, looked over his glass before taking a decisive gulp. “Anything that doesn't embarrass me, certainly.” He gasped after drinking. “But don't try to make it so obvious you're imitating her.”
My expression spread into displeasure. “You're supposed to give me advice on how to look like her, genius. Where's my end of this bargain? You give me the advice of how I should mirror your darling and I get to learn things from that. Easy.”
“Something elegant, it's a black-tie occasion,” Masato brushed off. “No white, please. Too obvious to signal a lack of taste. I'm sure you'll get by.” He no longer bothered when he put his glass down on the table and took a quick look at his watch. “See you at Hyatt, probably around 19:00.” Then, he stood up and left.
A few minutes later, when Mama-san sensed the growing vacancy left by Masato's departure, she came back to my table. “He's gone? Who's paying the tab?”
“Put it on my list, Mama-san,” I replied.
“Your boyfriend, Janine?”
I leaned back to rest my spine on the sofa and rest my head on it as I swung my attention at the door.
“Iyā. Sales pitch,” I stated as a matter-of-fact. “We’re currently doing business.”
“Ah, sou.” Then she hurried back to her office.
I stared at the ceiling which looked like the rest of this pub. Outdated. Stuck on its former Showa era days where lavish mahogany chairs were cushioned by liquor-stained furnishings. Flashy lights kept circling in motion. Its loyal customers are those who weren't whipped yet by the burst of the bubble era, those who remained unaffected through the lost decades, or those who weren't played nasty by a Filipina they keep on coming back.
It smells like pungent liquor in here, and the downtime music of a Teresa Teng ballad playing on the backdrop comes from a Philippine-type karaoke juke box. Loud and grainy as if it moved past beyond its prime.
I got my share of drinks with Ito-san a while ago. That's why I'm dozing idly at this table. No idea if Masato actually just tolerated whatever mediocre overpriced liquor we gave him. I'm pretty sure that aficionado dude already drank the best alcohol of what the Kanto Prefecture could offer.
Refreshed, I took out my phone to browse my SNS and check some updates. Not until I stumbled a very interesting question on Yahoo Chiebekuro, asking:
“I recently got back from a Philippine pub, and a Filipina checked me first thing in the morning through a text message asking how am I? Is she interested in me? She says she misses me a lot.”
What I find in the comment section is both amusing and accurate on average. So I tried to contribute my answer.
“Filipina hostess here. Here's a piece of my advice: try to go out and find some friends. Or try to go out and touch some grass. In that way, you don't have to confuse your want of a vibrant social life with a flirty Filipina extorting you some more money.”
Chuckling, I closed my phone after and stood up to clean the table.
