Chapter 11: The Other Woman

Robert's voice blared out of my car's speakers as soon as I hit the receive button on my steering wheel. I had the volume on max as I was belting out to Lady Gaga's Born This Way while driving along EDSA.

"I just got a call from the HR Director for the Central Bank. He said they're not interested in hiring you after receiving some insider tips from the DBA. What happened?"

"Hi Rob, good day to you, too!"

"Where are you now?"

"EDSA," I said. "Just passed by Cubao area."

"Are you okay?"

Rob sounded really concerned. I appreciated that. But I wasn't really in the mood to discuss what those fucktards at the DBA did.

"I'm great, Rob," I answered, hesitating a little. "But I blew the interview. Sorry."

He didn't answer.

"I'll be blowing off some steam with Derrick tonight. You can come and join us at the bar if you want."

"Where?"

"Janus' place. I forgot the name."

"The Schwa," he answered. "I'll be there."

After an eternity of driving through traffic, I couldn't just sit in the car anymore, so I decided to pass by St. Matthews instead. The hospital is huge and quite modern. It lives up to its name as the flagship of health care excellence in the country. I can easily compare it to the big ones in Seoul. The interior design of the hospital has also been done with meticulous care.

It doesn't feel like a hospital at all with its high ceilings and plenty of natural light. The colors, glass surfaces, paintings, and sculptures scattered there are more fitting for a hotel than a hospital. The only telltale sign that the place is a hospital is the endless parade of staff in white overcoats and uniforms along with their patients in pale blue hospital gowns. Plus, there's a distinct smell of sanitizer in the air.

I walked past the nurses' station at the Pediatric Surgery Department and headed toward the Pediatric ICU. The receptionist at the lobby had confirmed to me earlier that Dr. Derrick Evangelista was there now. The Pediatric ICU looks like a Pixar-themed kindergarten on steroids, but instead of tiny children's desks and chairs, there are all sorts of beds and medical apparatus everywhere.

I could see Derrick through the floor-to-ceiling glass walls of the room. He was in grey scrubs with a matching grey head cap. It was the first time I was witnessing Derrick in action. It didn't seem as hectic as how they made it look on TV. He was singing a lullaby of some sort to a little boy while ruffling the latter's hair.

"He's an angel," I heard the man a few meters from me say.

"He's our little Janjan's guardian angel," said the woman beside him in between sobs.

I waved as Derrick looked up. He nodded, made his way to the back of the room, and came out in his overcoat.

"What's up, Mr. Banker?" he greeted me. "Wait for me a sec. I'm just going to give out some instructions."

I smiled and followed Derrick over to the nurses' station. The nurses and two other ladies in scrubs all stood up and greeted Derrick.

"Hi guys," Derrick said, giving them a lazy wave. "It's a quiet afternoon, isn't it? I'm clocking out early today. I need to run some errands with my friend here. BJ, come and say hi."

I took a step closer and greeted everyone. I could see the ladies giggling as Derrick put his arm across my shoulders. "BJ's one of my best friends since high school. This guy's a big shot in the banking and finance field."

"Doc, are you really just friends?" asked one lady in scrubs, giggling expectantly.

"Ahh, BJ, meet Dr. Selene. She's the president of my fan club. Mind you, they do nothing but pair me off with all the guys they see me with."

"Hi doc. Derrick and I are just friends," I said cheerfully. "He's not my type, believe me."

"BJ likes oppas from Korea, so a tall, dark, and handsome Pinoy like me won't make the cut."

I elbowed Derrick. Although I was trying to be out and proud, it was still uncomfortable for me to have my sexuality discussed to strangers so openly. I definitely agree with what Derrick has asked before: Why is straight the default? Why do we have to come out but straight people don't need to?

"Anyway, Janjan's recovering well after his surgery. I want updates on his blood count for possible infection as well as his blood levels. Let's see if he will be needing a transfusion."

"Right, doc," responded the other woman in scrubs.

"Mimi doesn't look too well. I don't think she has that long if we don't do the transplant ASAP. Can you call the organ donation foundation and check the status of our request? Let me know by tomorrow."

"Okay, doc."

Derrick gave a few more instructions to the nurses and his residents before he steered the two of us toward his office. It's a small shared office, but it's cozy. There's a small dresser for his civilian clothes, two handsome mahogany desks and executive chairs, and a full couch set complete with a flat-screen TV. There's a fridge, a microwave, an electronic water kettle, and a mini espresso machine.

"Who's that? Your brother?" I asked, pointing at the sign on the door that read Dr. I. Evangelista. Cardio-Thoracic Surgeon.

"You're sexist! What makes you think Dr. Evangelista's a he?"

He had a point. "I meant to say 'sibling.' So are you related to him? Her? Them?"

"I was just teasing you. And no, we're not related. The rooms were basically assigned alphabetically, so I ended up sharing this office with him."

Derrick motioned for me to take a seat before offering me a chilled canned coffee that I gladly accepted. What was the purpose of the espresso machine if he was going to stock his fridge with iced coffee? Typical Derrick. I was sure he had bought it on impulse.

"So," Derrick started. "Did you nail it?"

I shook my head. "They called me out for being gay."

"What? Did you sing them your soprano version of Born this Way? How did they even find out?"

"Of course not," I protested. "They found out because I told them."

"And why did you do that, genius?"

"Because I envy you!"

Derrick didn't respond.

"I envy you, I envy Tita Gay, and I envy every single straight man and straight woman who never had to exert a single ounce of effort into hiding who they are."

I didn't expect myself to realize that that was what I wanted, that that's how I really felt.

Derrick interrupted my thoughts by saying, "Come here." I obliged, and we hugged. It felt so warm. I like hugs. I hugged Derrick tighter.

"I just want to be who I am."

"I get it," Derrick said. "It's their loss. And I'm sure there'd be a lot of companies out there that would be more than willing to take you in."

"I don't think so," I answered, head still buried in Derrick's shoulder, arms tightly hugging him. "I kind of insulted the President of DBA, you know. I'm probably blacklisted in the industry by now."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him his Prada suit is fucking ugly and that he's an ass-licker." I hesitated before continuing. "And I called him a fucktard, too."

Derrick laughed. "What should I do with you?"

We went to eat a late lunch at Burger King. Whenever we're with Faye, we end up eating at fancy restaurants, but we didn't feel like doing that now. My sad and broken heart wanted to taste that juicy, flame-grilled beef patty from Burger King. Derrick must have felt the same way as he also ordered two servings of their chicken nuggets aside from our burger meals.

I told Derrick I invited Robert to join us later at the bar. He didn't really have a problem with it, but surprisingly, he wasn't shocked at the fact that our hot high school classmate is gay.

"Are you going to the bar looking like that?"

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" I asked, offended by his comment. "You're like that DBA President—zero sense of style."

"I meant your getup's a knockout for corporate events and black-tie gatherings," he explained. "We should tone it down for the bar. Let's go shopping!"

"You don't have money, and I don't have a job," I started. "We should go home and change."

"Ugh, why'd you have to be such a killjoy?"

***

At around 10, Derrick and I found ourselves seated at the bar where Janus tends. We ordered some mojitos to pass the time until the place fills, or at least until Robert arrives.

"Look at this," Derrick said.

He showed me Gossip Gurl's page with a picture of him and I exiting the hospital. The caption read: Just in! @bjmesoftly and @dr.derrick spotted at St. Matthew's today! Are they the Metro's newest power couple? What's going to happen to our courtroom heartthrob @robanderson95?

"What did they mean by that?" I asked, referring to Gossip Gurl's comment about Rob.

"Probably this," Derrick said as he showed me another photo a few scrolls down.

This time, it was a photo of me and Robert dancing in Trish Aquino's wedding. The caption read: The Metro's newest cutie, @bjmesoftly, captures the heart of everyone's long-standing crush, @robanderson95. I'm not jealous, you are!

"Who's this Gossip Gurl figure?"

"No idea," Derrick answered. "But people from all over the city send her pictures of particular people she features on her page."

"Like us?"

"Yeah, like us. I'm pretty sure it's the nurses who took the picture and sent her."

"Shit!" I cursed under my breath when I saw Gossip Gurl's post of a tall and athletic-looking man wearing my clothes, the ones that were taken by the mystery guy at the Hilton Hotel. "Those are mine!"

"Let me see," Derrick said, taking his phone back. "Who is this fashionable hottie spotted along the streets of BGC?" He read out loud. "He's wearing haute couture from head to ankles. Yes! Just ankles, because his toes are covered in Converse sneakers! Somebody give this hottie a nice pair of Zegnas! Prizes await those who can identify him! OXOX, Gossip Gurl."

So nobody knew the guy, or at least not yet from the looks of it. I made a mental note to follow Gossip Gurl on IG to get more information on the man who had taken my clothes. I tried my best to determine his facial features, but the candid photo captured him with his head bowed down. I had to give it to him: he looked good in my clothes. The fit was absurdly small for him, but it produced a model-esque effect.

Robert finally arrived, and I introduced Derrick to him and vice versa. It was pretty awkward introducing someone to someone else when they had practically spent 3 years together in high school. Then again, my clique with Faye, Cassie, and Derrick had been as close to the sports jocks as the Philippines is to the UK.

"So it's Attorney Anderson now, right?" Derrick teased.

"Yeah." Derrick nodded confidently. "And it's Dr. Evangelista, isn't it?"

"Great, I'm in the company of two successful professionals," I butted in.

Derrick gave me the stink eye while Rob affectionately ruffled my hair and apologized.

"You ready to tell us what happened?"

I narrated every single insult hurled my way by the president of the Development Bank of Asia. I also mentioned how I called them fucktards and insulted their fashion sense, or rather, the lack of it. Derrick calmly listened, but Robert was clearly agitated by everything. He was the one who had recommended me after all.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I mostly deal with the VPs. I've never met the president himself. Didn't know he was an asshole."

"You don't have to apologize. In fact, I'm sorry for blowing it off. I dragged your name in it."

"Screw them," he answered. "If they wish to cut our firm out because of my sexuality, so be it. I doubt they'd find another firm with our expertise in financial matters."

"It just sucks that I still can't be out," I started. "I've already wasted 31 years of my life inside the fucking closet. I guess it's time to really come out, you know what I mean?"

Derrick and Robert nodded. We spent the next few minutes finishing our drinks and ordering new ones from Janus, who was now too busy to join our conversation.

"So what's your plan now?" Derrick asked.

"I don't really know," I answered. "I have some investments with Faye, so maybe I can take care of those full-time."

"Who was the guy who got you fired, anyway?" Robert interjected.

"Some hot dude from another bar," Derrick answered.

"His name is JM," I said. "And apparently, he's gone MIA."

Shoot. Slip of the tongue. I was not ready to reveal anything yet.

"What?" Derrick asked. "Please tell me you didn't do anything stupid."

"Excuse me, Dr. D," I said defensively. "When have I done stupid things?"

"Uhh, let's see. How about when you gave your Korean ex-boyfriend twenty thousand dollars only to find out he's straight?"

"Touché."

Robert cleared his throat with a little cough. "JC, another round for us, please."

I was really confused about what was happening with JM. Was I really getting scammed? Or was he still in a bind with everything that's happening to his mom? Robert seems to be really interested in dating—should I give him a shot? But he's way too good to be true. Robert, that is. He's a lawyer. And a name partner to one of Manila's top firms. He deserves someone better than stupid, jobless BJ.

Derrick continued his sermon about boyfriends and money matters. He sounded elitist, to be honest. But I also understood where he was coming from, given that I had experienced the same thing firsthand. For some unknown reason, people think we're not meant to find true love. There's this preconceived notion that gay guys will die alone and that the best we can do is to buy love.

Like we're not good enough for real relationships.

Like we don't deserve anything close to love.

"He's not answering your calls and texts?" Robert chimed in.

"Yes. For a couple of weeks now."

Derrick gave out an audible sigh.

"Aren't we jumping to conclusions here?" Robert asked.

"That's what I told BJ when they first met, and I totally regret it. The whole thing is obviously a scam."

"Hey Derrick, I just remembered," I said. "JM mentioned that his mom was at St. Matthews Medical Center."

Derrick raised his right eyebrow. "And?"

"I mean... Could you try and ask around if his mom was or is still there?"

"We have a lawyer here, and yet you're asking me to do the illegal and unethical act of divulging a patient's private information?"

Robert laughed nervously. "Relax. I'm a lawyer, not a state prosecutor."

"Please?" I asked Derrick. "I need answers. I don't know what's happening."

"Okay," Derrick answered. "But before I do, tell me what you did first."

"I'm going to need a drink."

Janus came over and gave us another batch of drinks. I chugged mine in one go while the two sipped and stared at me.

"Hebrowed hafamilen forizmas murgenzyhosptalization."

"Huh?" Robert and Derrick said in unison.

I exhaled loudly as though doing so would undo the knot in my stomach. It didn't. "He borrowed half a million for his mom's emergency hospitalization."

"What?" Derrick said. "Are you really that dumb?"

"Derrick, please! I need you as a friend right now."

"I am being your friend right now!" Derrick snapped. "You are so stupid, BJ! I can't believe it!"

"I shouldn't have said anything," I said.

"And you're being stupid again!" Derrick said, getting angrier. "You should have told us way sooner!"

"Relax, guys," Robert said. "We don't know anything for certain right now. BJ just wants you to check if this JM's mom is really there or not.

Derrick didn't blink for the next few minutes as he was busy giving me the death glare. I knew he was just looking out for me. I would have probably reacted the same way if it had been him in my shoes. But it didn't change the fact that it was painful listening to him say all of that.

"Name?" he asked.

"James Marco Rodriguez," I answered, very much ashamed of myself.

"For fuck's sake, not him!" Derrick snapped again.

"I don't know his mother's name." The situation was really getting too much to handle now.

Derrick fished out his phone from his pocket and dialed. "This is Dr. Evangelista. Is Shelly on duty now? Can you transfer me over, please?" A few seconds passed. "Shelly, this is Derrick." Robert and I looked at Derrick expectantly. "No, no, everything's fine," he continued, turning his back on us. "Listen, can you check something for me? Do we have any patient with the surname Rodriguez?

There were several moments of silence. Robert tapped me on the shoulder and mouthed, Don't worry.

"Uh-huh. Yes. Yes. Probably around 40 to 60 years of age. Maybe? Surgery, from what I've heard. Okay. Okay. No, that can't be right. I don't know if this is going to help, but the legal guardian might be named James Marco Rodriguez. Can you check that for me, too?"

More silence followed, and I waited in bated breath.

"Alright. Thanks a lot."

Derrick turned to face us again, but I couldn't read his expression. I felt Robert's hand grabbed mine. I squeezed it and looked at him. "Thank you," I said.

"See you tomorrow. Bye." Derrick hung up before talking to us. "I thought it was going to be difficult because Rodriguez is a common name," he began. "But we've only had four patients with that name in the past two months. Imagine that!"

My heart raced. Could one of them really be JM's mom?

"Unfortunately, nobody fits your description. We have a 55-year-old man who underwent liver transplant surgery. We have a 4-month-old baby at the pediatric department for an atrial septal defect." Rob gave him a quizzed look. "Hole in the heart, sorry," Derrick clarified. "And we have a 19-year-old male, traffic accident victim. Finally, we have a 24-year-old female who gave birth a couple of weeks back. C-section, premature at 7 months, and the baby's in an incubator."

I sighed. So JM had lied. His mom was not confined in the hospital after all.

"Her name's Maribeth Rodriguez. She's the wife of James Marco Rodriguez."