Chapter Text
Author's note:
Content Warning: This chapter contains a surfing accident, near-drowning, medical trauma (including pulmonary barotrauma/collapsed lung), and emotional distress.
Reader discretion is advised.
World Surf League (WSL) Championship Tour (CT) 2023
At first, everything felt right.
“Monteverde is turning degrees on the wave — and BOOM!” the commentator roared. “He once again proves he is built to get along with the waters!” The crowd along the shore erupted every time Luca carved through the waves — clean lines, smooth cutbacks, the kind of surfing that made people call him one of the best from Hawaii.
His name was climbing the rankings.
Everyone loved him.
The commentators called his rise electric.
“Here comes the big wave! Did everyone know Monteverde’s nickname?”
“He is Luca, the Big Wave Killer Monteverde — best record in defeating big waves and making it look smooth as silk!”
Everyone cheered again.
Everyone shouted, “GO LUCA!” in every language.
Luca was confident.
Ready to win this shit again.
Because the waves? He was born to live by them, and through them.
And he knew that.
Half his life was spent in waves, salt water, and the breeze of the ocean. This big wave? It was just another one. Another wave Luca had already defeated a hundred times. He had nothing to worry about.
Nothing.
But—
The universe?
Sometimes it’s really unfair.
When the set rolled in — a wall of water bigger and heavier than the others — Luca felt a flicker of unease in his chest. “What the hell…” he muttered, as his body began to warn him.
No. Don’t go.
But Luca doesn’t back down.
Competitors don’t back off.
Champions charge.
He paddled hard, caught the wave, and stood tall. But as the lip pitched over, it came down heavier than he expected.
And then—
The ocean swallowed him whole.
It drove him deep — deeper than he’d ever been. Pressure squeezed his chest like a vice. His lungs burned. His heartbeat roared in his ears.
When he finally clawed his way to the surface, he gasped — sharp, desperate, like a man shot out of hell — but the air wouldn’t come.
Just pain.
Sharp pain.
No air.
Just pain.
His vision blurred.
His chest caved inward.
And then—
Black.
Luca collapsed in the water, his body going limp as rescue teams rushed in. Boards scattered. The crowd fell into stunned silence. Somewhere, over the speakers, the cheers stopped.
A commentator’s voice cracked.
“We’ve got a surfer down — Lucero Cael Monteverde is down — I repeat, MONTEVERDE IS DOWN! Oh God— RESCUERS!”
Luca — who earlier was confident of winning — was now drowning in the ocean he once trusted the most.
“Pulmonary barotrauma leading to pneumothorax, or collapsed lung,” the doctor began.
“In simple terms, your lung tore from the pressure.”
“You’re lucky you didn’t drown. But you’re at risk now, Luca.”
The doctor’s voice softened, but his words stayed sharp. “Every big wipeout could collapse it again — and next time —”
A pause.
“If this happens again, and it will… it could kill you.”
Silence.
And then the words no surfer ever wants to hear,
“You need to stay out of the water. For good.”
Kira — Luca’s best friend — turned to look at him. Blank face. Empty eyes. As if, the moment he collapsed, Luca already knew. Knew this would be his last. Of course his dad warned him. His family — doctors, all of them — told him this could happen.
But Luca?
Luca trusted the ocean.
The ocean was his most trusted friend.
His one-call-away friend.
But sometimes…
Sometimes the ones we trust the most are the ones who betray us the hardest.
Present Day.
Year 2025.
Honolulu, Hawai‘i.
“PUTANGINA NAMAN, LUCA!” First thing in a fucking morning, may nagsisisigaw na sa condo unit ni Luca. “LUKA LUKA ‘OE?”
t: (Are you crazy?)
Kira added as he opened the curtains na kanina pa tirik na tirik ang araw kasi it’s 10AM in fucking morning yet Luca Monteverde is still sleeping— “And you’re with a man.” Kira said in disbelief as he looked at Luca’s big ass bed and saw someone hugging him from behind.
“5 more minutes…” Luca mumbled, still half-asleep but definitely naked, cuddling the man beside him, na kahapon lang niya kineme—unholy night rather—dahil glowing pa sa after fuck si Luca.
“We still have flight, Lucero Monteverde, and it can’t fucking wait for 5 minutes!” Kira na ngayon ay naglilinis ng kalat sa kwarto ni Luca. Kahit brief nung ka-sex ni Luca, kinuha na niya (unknowingly).
“Big day ng kapatid mo sa Friday, and you’re still here in Hawai‘i, fucking some random man as if end of the world na bukas— Luca, pang-ilan mo na ‘yan in a week?” Kira didn’t even wait for Luca’s answer.
“‘EKOLU! (Three!) I wouldn’t even be surprised kung magkaroon ka na diyan ng HIV kasi heck, everyday may ka-bembangan kang hinayupak ka.” Kira, now carrying Luca’s luggage.
”‘Ōlelo nui ʻo ia, hiki iā ʻoe ke pani i kona waha? E like me kaʻu i pani ai i kou waha i ka pō nei?”
t: (“He’s loud, can you shut his mouth? Like how I shut your mouth last night?”)
The guy beside Luca muttered, eyes still shut, hugging Luca tighter. Kira, who’s now putting all of Luca’s shirts in the luggage, raised his eyebrow like Miss Minchin na nakarinig ng insulting words. Luca chuckled, pinching the guy’s nose—his name is Hiro.
“Oh? No, love. He will shut you up.”
And there, Kira threw Hiro’s underwear and clothes right through his face.
“You thought I can’t speak Hawaiian? I’ve been here since 2013, and you have the audacity to shut me up? ‘E hele aku ʻoe! Puka! Hele! (Go! Out! Get out!)” Kira forced Hiro to go out without even saying proper goodbye to Luca, who was enjoying the show. Still naked Hiro, buttocks bouncing, walking away toward the door because of Kira.
“‘Ai pono ʻoe, lolo pupule! (You better behave, crazy idiot!)” Tuloy-tuloy na mura ni Kira sa Hawaiian. “At ikaw! Lucero Cael Monteverde!”
“What?” Luca, sitting and leaning against his bed’s headboard, as if hindi nila flight in an hour.
“Anong ‘What’?! Fix yourself! Uuwi na tayo sa Pinas!” Kira said, and Luca groaned, rolling his eyes like he doesn’t want to go back to that hell of a place.
“Saan ba gaganapin ang kasal ni Ate? We can just attend and leave.” Luca, with that uninterested tone. Hindi na niya maalala when he last saw his sister. 6 years? 7? Basta matagal na.
“Attend and leave? Bitch, your family knows you stopped surfing. So they told me that you’re staying in the Philippines for good.”
Of course.
Of fucking course.
“To what? To pursue Medicine?” Luca mocked, as if the word Medicine is cursed. He never wanted that. The degree, the title, the legacy of the Monteverdes—no. He doesn’t want any of it.
He just wanted to surf.
Yet the world is too cruel to steal even that dream.
“Malamang. They’re convinced na yung incident mo is a sign that you’re meant to be a doc—”
“Bullshit.” Luca cut him off.
“So, saan? Saan gaganapin?” Luca shifted the topic, getting ready for a shower.
“Saan pa ba?” Kira faced him.
“You’re going back home, Luca.”
“You’re going back to Siargao.”
Luca paused.
As if his world paused too.
Siargao.
Luca, who once learned how to surf there, left to chase his dream—and now that dream is gone, he’s returning to the place where it all started.
Siargao, Philippines.
1:07 PM
After a long flight, too many stopovers, and at least three existential crises in transit, putangina—finally, Luca and Kira stepped onto Siargao soil.
Luca Monteverde adjusted the black shades perched on his nose as he stepped out of the small, open-air terminal. His black sleeveless top clung to his back, damp from the sticky weight of travel, and his red board shorts caught the bright hitik ng araw, loud against the gray concrete under his feet. He dragged his hard-case maleta behind him, the wheels struggling against the tiny cracks and stones.
He paused.
Inhale.
The air hit him—salty, heavy, alive. It smelled like the ocean and coconut trees, of sweat and something rawer. Almost familiar, like a place from a dream. But at the same time, estranghero. Like the island was sizing him up, asking, babalik ka ba, o turista ka lang talaga?
Luca slowly exhaled, his lips twisting.
"Tangina, impyerno na ba ang Pilipinas?" He muttered, irritated by the heat licking at his skin. Mainit sa Hawaii, oo, pero putangina—impyerno levels ang init sa Pinas.
Yet something flickered in his chest.
After years of being away—decades, rather—he’s finally back.
Back in Siargao.
A place he once called home.
All around them, tourists milled about—some excited for their vacation, others coming home to the island they never really left. The crowd stirred when a man held up a cardboard sign a few meters away:
"Nay Palad Hideaway — Luxury Resort."
"Ayun! Let’s go, Lu," Kira said, tugging at his arm as they made their way toward the guy with the sign. Seventeen other tourists shuffled along with them, their voices loud, their energy foreign against the slow pulse of the island.
Luca sighed. Heavy. As if he could already smell the trouble from miles away.
He knows his family.
Knows them too well.
A perfectly composed clan where one misstep earns you looks so sharp, you’d think you killed someone—when really, you just dropped an expensive vase.
When Luca told them he wouldn’t pursue Medicine, that he’d rather chase waves and taste every saltwater around the world, his parents didn’t just disapprove.
They called him names.
Disgrace. Salot. Walang alam sa buhay. Imperfect.
The black sheep of the Monteverde family.
And even now, the words echoed, clinging to his ribs like old wounds that never healed right. But Luca knew, deep down, what he wanted. What he loved.
Surfing.
The ocean.
The rush of waves under his board and the sun on his back. He didn’t listen to them. He couldn’t.
So in 2014, at nineteen, he left Siargao. Left the heavy walls of his family’s judgment behind and let his feet take him where the tide pulled. Wherever he could smell the sea breeze, feel the sand beneath his soles, and hear the crash of waves—doon siya.
But the truth is, he would never have dared if no one believed in him.
If no one told him, "Don’t listen to them."
If not for that one person who always saw him, not as a failure, but as someone worth believing in.
Nasaan na kaya siya?
The boy who once told him to chase his dream. The boy he once loved with all the reckless hope of youth.
And God—Luca really hoped that boy wasn’t here.
Because if he was…
Luca wasn’t sure he could survive meeting him again.
“Didn’t even bother to pick me up and just relied on a tour guide?” Luca muttered, walking alongside Kira. He stopped when the crowd halted in front of them, the tour guide raising a hand to signal everyone to pause for formalities. Luca let out a short, humorless laugh. “Still a disgrace, huh.”
Kira glanced at him, his brows knitting together. “Lu, they’re busy.”
Luca turned his head, his grin sharp and bitter. “Kira, I don’t care how fucking busy you are. Busy or not, if your kid steps foot back in their hometown after decades, if you miss them so damn much you can’t even fucking breathe—” he gestured around, voice rising just a little, “—you pick them up. You show up.” His grin widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“But whatever. Who fucking cares.”
He does.
He cares.
Because no matter how deep the wounds, no matter how many times they called him a disgrace—Luca still loves them. Still clings to the hope that maybe, this time, they'd see him.
Because for him, his parents... they’re still alive. And maybe they’re learning how to love for the first time, too.
Kira opened his mouth, about to say something—maybe comfort, maybe call him out—but before he could, the voice in front of them cut through the air. Loud, deep, too cheery for Luca's current mood.
“Is everyone here?” The tour guide’s voice echoed, drawing everyone’s attention. A staff member whispered something to him, and he nodded, clapping his hands once.
“Welcome to Siargao, everyone!”
The usual tourist spiel followed—talk of the island’s beauty, the culture, the surfing spots. But Luca’s ears started to ring, the words fading into static.
Because that voice—
That voice wasn’t just some random tour guide.
And then, the guy added, bright and smooth.
“Oh, I almost forgot—I'm Isaac Lawin Ybañez. Or Isla, as most people call me here.” He grinned, voice steady.
“And again, welcome to Siargao.”
Luca’s heart stuttered, skipping a beat like it just missed a step.
Isla.
The one person who believed in him when no one else did.
The boy who told him to chase the waves, to dream big.
The only person he ever loved—was standing right in front of him.
"Alam mo, kanina ka pa tahimik," Kira said, as if he had a tenth sense when it comes to Luca. Right now, Luca was just staring out the window while they were on their way to Nay Palad Hideaway — Luxury Resort.
Meanwhile, their tour guide, Isla, and her co-tour guide were introducing the tourists to the beauty and history of Siargao.
"Something shifted when you saw that peach-haired guy. Para kang na-love at first sight." Kira added, elbowing Luca playfully. "Yie, type mo 'no? Should I introduce you to him?"
Kira, ever the mischievous one, raised his hand. Luca saw it and immediately pulled it down — but it was too late.
Isla, sharp as always, noticed.
"Yes, sir? Do you have any questions?" Isla said, smiling, curious.
Luca clenched his jaw and hid behind the seat in front of him, glaring at Kira — who now assumed Luca had taken an interest in Isla.
"Putangina, sabihin mo wala," Luca muttered, eyes wide, silently begging Kira to just fucking stop. But Kira, his ever hard-headed friend, ignored him — as if ready to jump off a cliff with "Aloha!" as his last word.
"I'm just gonna ask lang sana, if the Monteverdes are already in Nay Palad? Like, are you familiar with the Monteverdes and the grand wedding na gaganapin doon? Buong Siargao is invited, right?"
PUTANGINA MO, KIERAN VENUS MAHELONA.
OF FUCKING COURSE, KILALA NIYA ANG MGA MONTEVERDE.
Well, technically, everyone living in Siargao knows the Monteverdes. They basically own 99% of the distribution and provide most of the help in Siargao — resorts, hospitals, and even the people working here are under them.
Their villa-hacienda is right by the sea.
And it's not just Siargao — even in Manila, the Monteverdes are well-known. They're one of the best doctor families out there, with people saying:
"Kapag ang Monteverde ang gumamot sa’yo, siguradong gagaling ka."
ANO KAMI, DISCIPLE NI GOD?! Luca once snapped when Kira told him that back in Hawaii.
So yeah. If you see a helicopter flying over Siargao? It’s either the President of the Philippines… or Luca’s family. Going back and forth from Manila and Siargao to save lives — of course, not for free.
"Oh sir, may I ask your name? We have a list of guests—" Isla started, reaching for the paper her co-guide handed her, but Kira cut in.
"Oh, honey, not guests," Kira said, shaking her head like Miss Minchin disapproving of Sarah.
Luca knew what was coming.
And he prayed — prayed hard — that someone would get carsick and throw up right now. Now na.
But the Lord? He was just laughing up in heaven, popcorn in hand. Like He was saying, "No, Luca. Let your best friend announce your arrival in Siargao and let the person you left know that you’re here."
Kunin mo na lang ako, Lord.
"I'm with Lucero Cael Monteverde — the youngest child of the Monteverdes," Kira declared.
And Luca, still hiding, closed his eyes, cursing in every language he knew. He had no choice now but to show himself — rather than look like some idiot hiding like he owed someone money.
Luca slowly leaned back into his seat, fully visible now. Still wearing shades — no one could tell where exactly he was looking, but damn, Isla knew. They were looking at each other right now.
Isla, on the other hand, felt like the world just stopped.
Lucero Cael Monteverde.
More than a decade had passed since he last heard that name.
And now that Luca was just a few feet away from him, his heart skipped a beat. Not in a good way. But in an "Oh-my-ex-is-in-front-of-me-after-not-seeing-him-for-a-decade" kind of way.
Isla didn’t even know how to react.
Is he happy because Luca is finally here, standing in front of him after all this time, or does it hurt because every moment of waiting just reminds him that he was never chosen back then?
Is he sad because no matter how hard he tried to move on, Luca’s wounds are still fresh in his heart, never fully healed?
And honestly? Maybe it was both. Mixed feelings, but he just didn’t know how to put them into words.
"It... It was our greatest honor that you're with us today, Mr. Lucero Monteverde," Isla said, smiling professionally. The world stopped again. The tension was palpable, but only they could feel it — they were the only ones who knew the weight of it.
"Your family didn’t inform us that you would arrive today, so we didn’t prepare anything—" Isla chuckled nervously, but was cut off by Luca’s bitter laugh.
"Of course they didn’t inform you about my arrival. If they did, I wouldn’t even be here. They’d probably throw a parade. Like, 'Oh, the youngest son of the Monteverdes is back after years of not visiting his home province.'" Luca’s words dripped with sarcasm and bitterness.
If Luca could tell Isla one thing, it would be, "You know my family so fucking damn well, so why are you even saying that?" But he held back. Everything needed to stay professional.
Kira sighed and shook his head, glancing at Isla. The two exchanged a quick look, and Isla, ever quick-witted, responded, "Yes, the Monteverdes are already in Nay Palad."
Isla smiled, but Kira just nodded, his thoughts a whirlwind. He was about to ask Luca what the hell he was thinking by revealing to everyone on the bus that he was the black sheep. But before he could, Isla spoke up again.
"Welcome back to Siargao, Mr. Lucero Monteverde." Isla smiled, genuinely this time.
Luca simply stared out the window, pretending to admire the beautiful scenery of Siargao. But honestly? His heart — oh, his fragile, damn heart — wasn’t paying attention to the view.
He missed Isla’s smile.
That smile.
The one that made his heart race faster than the crashing waves outside
Nay Palad Hideaway
1:50 PM
The mini bus stopped in front of the resort, and the first thing that greeted them was a fleet of tinted black Land Cruisers — yes, plural — as if a movie shoot was happening. And of course, those Land Cruisers belonged to the Monteverde family, who were currently going over the final details for Friday's grand wedding.
As the tourists, along with the tour guides, stepped off the bus, a group of men in beach polos immediately greeted them. But these weren’t just any beachgoers — they were clearly part of the Monteverde family’s security team, their earpieces giving away their role. Somewhere hidden beneath their casual attire were weapons.
Monteverde’s family guards.
"Isla ng Siargao Travel and Tours?" The man in the white beach polo asked Isla. He was tall, moreno, and clearly someone who spent a lot of time in the gym, judging by his massive biceps. Isla nodded, about to respond, but the guy interrupted him. Rude.
Typical Monteverde bodyguards.
"Mr. Lucero Cael Monteverde. Your father sent us. We’ll escort you to your family’s current location in the resort," the bodyguard said with a grin.
Why was he grinning?
Well...
“Mati? Is that you?!” Luca lowered his sunglasses and spotted Mattias Nicolas Alcantara — his childhood best friend. Technically, the Alcantaras had been the Monteverdes’ most trusted bodyguards since Luca’s great-great-great-grandfather. "MATTIAAAAAS!!!" Luca rushed towards him, and Mati opened his arms, squatting a little before wrapping Luca in a tight hug.
"God, Luca, I missed you," Mati said, still holding him, completely ignoring the curious stares of everyone else around them. It was like they were putting on a mini reunion show, and the foreigners were watching, probably thinking it was like that scene from Hello Love Again between Joy and Ethan.
"And you're still... light. Kumakain ka ba sa Hawaii?" Mati teased, pulling back to look at Luca.
"What kind of food exactly?" Luca and Mati exchanged a look, understanding each other perfectly. Luca laughed, and added, "And I missed you too." Luca smiled and lightly punched Mati in the chest.
Mati acted hurt, scrunching his nose and trying to look cute in front of Luca. Once the reunion vibes settled, Mati snapped his fingers, signaling the other bodyguards to gather Luca’s things. After a moment, Mati turned to Isla.
"Thank you, Ybañez. You can wrap it up and leave," Mati smiled, his voice firm but friendly. He turned back to Luca, who was obviously pretending to look at the resort’s scenery, though Mati knew damn well he was ignoring Isla’s gaze.
"Halika na. Your family’s waiting for you." Mati offered his arm to Luca, who smiled and let him pull him into an embrace. Now, they walked side by side toward the resort, with Isla's eyes never leaving Luca.
Isla stood there, lost in thought. He still had so many questions but couldn’t quite piece them together.
Why was Luca really here in Siargao? Was it just for his sister’s wedding, or was there something more?
“Wow... may naiwan pala siyang best friend na kasing pogi ni Kim Mingyu ng Seventeen,” Kira said, now standing next to Isla. “Sayang, I thought my BFF was into you.” Kira smirked, glancing at Isla.
Isla chuckled softly. "Have a good vacation in Siargao, sir." He smiled, ever the professional.
"Vacation?" Kira laughed. "No, peach cake, we’re staying in Siargao for good." He shrugged, grabbed his things, and walked off. "Anyway, see you around!" He tapped Isla’s shoulder before heading into the resort.
Isla stood frozen.
Staying? For good?
He thought Luca was out there chasing waves around the world, living the dream. So why was he back here—again?
Did something happen? Or... no.
Isla shook his head and reminded himself that he had no right to know anything about Luca anymore.
Whatever Luca’s plans were... he wasn’t part of them now.
The moment Luca told Isla, eleven years ago, that he was choosing his dreams over their relationship—that he was leaving him behind—that was the same moment Isla swore to himself he'd stop waiting.
That he'd stop hoping.
That he’d learn to forget.
But standing there now, Isla felt it again—the ache he thought he'd already buried deep beneath the waves.
Author's note:
Content Warning: This chapter contains scenes of emotional abuse, verbal aggression, physical violence, references to medical trauma, and depictions of panic and psychological distress.
Reader discretion is advised.
Nay Palad Hideaway — Luxury Resort
1:59 PM
Luca walked along the white sand where most of his family had already gathered. He moved slowly, deliberately, each step feeling like a weight he had to carry. He exchanged brief nods with the resort coordinators and the wedding planners, barely registering their presence. Every step was a silent protest—he didn't want to be here. Not really.
Behind him, Mati followed quietly, gaze steady on Luca's back, as if he could sense the storm brewing inside his friend.
"Your sister can’t wait to see you, you know?” Mati said, trying to lighten the mood. Luca let out a hollow chuckle, one that sounded more like disbelief than amusement.
“Luca,” Mati called again. Luca stopped and turned to him. Mati's tone shifted, low and sincere. “I’m here, alright?” Luca managed a faint smile—one that looked more like a grimace, like he was conserving the last of his strength for the waves he knew were about to come crashing down on him.
“OH MY GOD?! IS THAT YOU, MY LOVE?!” a woman’s voice rang out in the distance. Mati straightened up, shifting into professional mode. Luca, on the other hand, let out a sigh, then opened his arms for a hug as a woman in a flowing beach dress ran toward him.
They embraced tightly. “It’s been seven years, Luca,” Luna whispered, cupping his face. “How’s Hawaii? Are you eating well? Taking your meds? Any symptoms—?”
“Ate,” Luca interrupted with a chuckle, “I’m fine. You don’t have to worry.” But his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a bitter edge to it. “You’re still as beautiful as ever,” he added softly.
“Come. Mom, Dad, and Kuya are waiting,” Luna said, linking her arm with his. As they walked, she leaned closer and whispered, “Love, try not to provoke Dad, please? Something happened at the hospital this morning. He’s… not in the mood.”
Even after all these years, Luna still knew exactly how Luca’s mouth worked—sharp, unfiltered, dangerous. Especially around their father.
Luca gave a small nod. And then, there they were. Face to face with the Monteverdes.
The wedding coordinator was mid-sentence, explaining the layout and flow of the event, when Leo Monteverde lifted a hand. Instantly, silence.
Leo stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back, walking slowly toward his son. When they were just inches apart, he looked Luca up and down—cold, calculating.
Only the sound of waves crashing filled the air.
Then—
“I know what happened to you in Hawaii. 2023.” Leo’s voice was low, sharp. “Pulmonary barotrauma. Do you know what that means?”
Luca said nothing. Just stared.
Leo took a breath, locking eyes with his son. “I’m asking you, Lucero.”
“Pulmonary barotrauma leading to pneumothorax. Collapsed lung,” Luca replied quietly, but with precision, like reciting a death sentence. “My lung tore from pressure buildup underwater. If it happens again, I might die.” He paused, voice tight with resentment.
“To stay alive, I have to stay out of the water. That shit ended my career, Dad.” He looked him straight in the eye.
“Bet you’re happy.” Leo’s lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“I am,” he said. “You’re a Monteverde. And the universe has spoken—you were never meant to waste your life chasing waves. You were born to be a doctor.”
Leo stepped back and straightened. “After your sister’s wedding, you’ll enroll in the University of Santo Tomas. It’s time. Your age doesn’t matter—as long as you finish medicine, you fulfill your duty.”
Luca’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “Do I even get a say in my life?”
Leo didn’t flinch.
“I don’t want to be a doctor. I don’t want your life. Even if it kills me, even if I die—”
“LUCERO!” Leo roared.
Luca didn’t flinch. Not this time. He had heard that voice too many times, been broken by it before. Not anymore.
“After Ate Luna’s wedding, I’m going back to Hawaii,” Luca said, voice trembling with fury. “Back to the only place that ever felt like home. Away from this family. Away from this suffocating, self-righteous legacy—”
Before he could finish, Leo’s hand came down hard across his face.
The sound was sharp, startling—cutting through the air like a crack of thunder. Gasps rippled across the beach. A clipboard slipped from someone’s hands. Even the waves seemed to pause.
Leo stood, hand still trembling from the impact, eyes blazing with fury.
“Don’t you dare speak that way about our family’s name. You carry Monteverde in your blood. Our name put food in your mouth. Our money kept you alive, paid your treatments, your doctors, your fucking rent in Hawaii—AND THE WHORES YOU SPEND IT ON!”
Silence.
The air felt thick. Heavy.
Luca touched the corner of his lip. Blood.
His knees nearly buckled. That old, familiar panic crept up his spine—the kind that lived in the shadow of his father’s voice. His breath hitched. He couldn’t swallow.
For a moment, he was seventeen again.
Cornered. Shaking. Powerless.
He couldn’t meet Leo’s eyes. He couldn’t breathe.
Run, his body screamed. Just say sorry, nod, agree—whatever it takes to survive this again. But then he felt it—Mati’s eyes on him. Luna’s stillness. The weight of his own life pressing against his chest like a second heartbeat. And somehow… somehow, he found his voice.
Trembling. Cracked. But his.
“You’re right,” Luca whispered, not looking up. “Your name saved me. Your money saved me.” His hands were shaking now. The taste of blood lingered in his mouth.
“But it also… killed everything I ever loved.” His voice cracked on “loved,” but he didn’t stop. Didn’t back down. He raised his eyes, finally meeting Leo’s.
“I’m scared of you,” he said. “I’ve always been scared of you. But I won’t let that fear decide who I become.” He took one shaky breath.
“I survived the ocean, Dad. But I won’t survive you.”
Then he turned and walked away.
Each step was heavy, but it was his.
And this time, he didn’t look back.
Luca went to his room, like he always has whenever his father made him feel small.
He didn’t run. Not exactly.
But the moment the door shut behind him, his legs gave out. He slid down against the wood, landing on the cold marble floor with a soft thud, knees drawn up to his chest.
He was shaking.
Not from the slap—he barely felt it now. But from everything else. From the pressure. From the noise inside his head. From the years of silence that had hardened into instinct.
His hands wouldn’t stop trembling. He looked at them like they belonged to someone else. He tried to make them still. He couldn’t.
The resort room was beautiful—sunlight pouring in through sheer curtains, the ocean just beyond the glass. But none of it reached him. Not the view, not the warmth. He was somewhere else.
His chest tightened, and he curled forward instinctively, forehead pressing against his knees, trying to keep himself small. Just like when he was a boy. Just like all those nights he spent locking himself in the bathroom to escape the shouting, the expectations, the weight of a name that never felt like his.
Luca had stood up to his father.
And now all he wanted was to disappear.
The adrenaline was gone. All that was left was the fear. The doubt. That voice in his head that still sounded too much like Leo Monteverde.
You’re nothing without us.
You’re weak.
You’ll come crawling back, like always.
He pressed his fingers to the cut on his lip. Winced. The sting grounded him, but it wasn’t enough to stop the quake in his bones.
I survived the ocean, he had said.
But in this moment, it didn’t feel like survival.
It felt like drowning all over again—only this time, there was no water.
Just the quiet collapse of someone who had finally spoken aloud the thing they feared the most.
That he might never really be free.
Author’s Note:
I’m not fluent in Bisaya, so the language and translations might not be entirely accurate. Thank you.
Isla ng Siargao Travel and Tours
Catangnan, General Luna.
3:04 PM
Halos kasabay ng pag-alis ni Luca sa mini bus ng IST&T ay ang pagsisimula ng usapan tungkol sa kanya sa loob ng opisina. Kahit habang kumakain ng meryenda, si Luca Monteverde pa rin ang topic.
“Yawa, wala ‘man lang nagsabi sa’kin na ganu’n pala ka-ano... ano nga bang English no’n? Ethereal—NAKS! Ka-ethereal ‘yang si Luca Monteverde,” sabi ni Boyet habang kinakain ang baon niyang meryenda.
“Ambot nimo, uy! Dili ba, dugay ra gyud nawala diri sa Siargao? Gusto unta ipa-med, pero karon, tan-awa, ga-surf-surf lang.” sabat ni Carla habang ngumunguya rin.
t: (Ewan ko sa’yo, uy! Hindi ba’t ang tagal niyang nawala rito sa Siargao? Ayaw mag-medisina, gusto na lang mag-surfing.)
“Oh eh bakit biglang nagbalik?” tanong ni Kaycee habang tuloy pa rin sa pagkain ng late lunch niyang adobo. Tumingin siya kay Isla na kasalukuyang nagtitimpla ng kape. Nakatalikod si Isla sa kanila pero nakikinig siya sa usapan nila.
“Isla, dito ka na pinanganak sa Siargao, ‘di ba? So syempre, kaila na ka anang mga Monteverde, labi na si Lucero Monteverde. Baka naman may alam ka? Share daw sa amoa bi!” dagdag ni Kaycee.
t: (So siyempre, kilala mo na 'yung mga Monteverde, lalo na si Lucero Monteverde... Share mo naman sa’min!)
Ngumiti si Isla habang hinahalo ang kanyang Nescafé. Mukhang sasagot na sana siya pero biglang dumating ang pinsan at childhood best friend niyang si Jayden, na halatang narinig ang usapan.
“Mga chismoso man jud mo ba,” sabay upo ni Jayden. “Oo, sa Siargao kami pinanganak, kasama ng mga anak ni Leo Monteverde. Pero hindi naman kami close sa mga ‘yon. I-level mo nga ang estado ng buhay natin kumpara sa kanila.”
t: (Chismoso talaga kayo.)
“Tingnan ninyo ni, oh.” Itinaas ni Jayden ang kanang kamay, “Mga Monteverde, diri.” Pagkatapos, inilagay niya ang kaliwang kamay sa sahig. “Kita? Mga Ybañez, Garcia? Diri ra ta kutob. Ganu’n kalayo.”
t: (Tingnan niyo ‘to, oh.) (Ito ang mga Monteverde.) (Tayo? Mga Ybanez, Garcia? Hanggang dito lang tayo.)
Tumawa siya at umiling. Samantala, hinarap na rin sila ni Isla, may hawak na tasa ng kape, nakasandal sa gilid ng mesa at bahagyang nakaupo. Uminom siya ng isang lagok habang patuloy na nakangiti at tumatango.
“Sino ba nagpapasweldo sa’tin? Di ba ang mga Monteverde? Tapos aasahan mong magiging close kami sa kanila?” napailing si Jayden. “Sus, libre man damgo pero ‘ayaw lang pud hilabti ang mga Monteverde.”
t: (Sus! Libre naman mangarap pero ‘wag mo nang isali sila.)
“Eh baka lang naman may alam kayo kung bakit umalis si Lucero dati,” ulit ni Kaycee. “At kung totoo nga ‘yung tsismis na hindi siya gusto ng pamilya niya?” Tumango sina Carla at Boyet bilang pagsang-ayon.
“Tanda mo ba, Isla? Kanina, parang may hugot si Mr. Monteverde, ‘di ba? Di ba?!—Kuh! Saba sad ba!” inis na sabi ni Carla. Napakamot siya sa ulo niya habang pinagmamasdan si Isla na tawa lang nang tawa at parang pa-pogi pa.
t: (Magsalita ka naman jan!)
Umiling si Isla. “Wala man koy angay isulti.” sagot niya, mababa ang kanyang boses na parang bagong gising. “Besides, nasabi na ni Jayden lahat.”
t: (Wala naman akong kailangang sabihin.)
Tiningnan niya si Jayden na para bang sinasabing: “Thank you for saving my ass.”
Because Jayden? Oh, he knows everything about Isla and Luca.
"Pero… ano ba talaga ang alam ninyong chismis?" Jayden asked, raising a brow.
Boyet, Carla and Kaycee looked up at the ceiling—as if it held all the Monteverde gossip they’ve ever heard. For people who always smiled wide and acted thrilled whenever they ran into a Monteverde, it was clear they also carried stories they believed, whispered, and never really let go of.
Sure, the Monteverdes owned Siargao.
But they didn’t own the minds—or opinions—of the people who lived on this island.
“Hmm… Sabi nila 'yung panganay? Si Lucian Kael Monteverde? Favorite child daw. Siya raw ang magmamana ng lahat—yung hospital dito, kay Luci raw 'yon. Yung sa Maynila? Sa kanya rin.” bulong ni Boyet na parang may CCTV sa bawat sulok ng Monteverde empire.
“Pero—MAY PERO—may ginagawa raw 'yon na kababalaghan sa Maynila.” dagdag ni Boyet.
“’Di ba? Mukha namang straight? Na kipay lang ang gusto?” bulong din ni Kaycee.
“Yawa, sa Maynila raw, palaging nasa gay bar 'yan!” dagdag ni Kaycee. “Tapos 'yung mayor daw sa Maynila? Naging jowa raw niya.”
"LUH? Hindi ko 'yan alam!" Carla gasped, almost dropping her fork.
"Ang alam ko lang… kapag may ‘emergency’ raw siya, doon siya pumupunta sa nabundat niya sa Maynila. May pamilya na raw siya ro’n!"
“Oh eh malay niyo... both,” sabat ni Jayden na halatang na-e-enjoy sa tsismisan. Kasi sa totoo lang, he lowkey hates the Monteverdes—and hearing all this drama? This is his kind of entertainment.
Isla, on the other hand, was as composed as ever. Just sipping his coffee, quiet and still—like none of this surprised him. And honestly? It didn’t. He used to hear all these stories firsthand. Back when Luca still told him everything.
“Walang nakakaalam ng totoo,” dagdag ni Carla. “Pero ‘yung nanay at tatay niya? Alam daw pero pilit tinatanggi. Kaya si Luci, favorite pa rin kahit may issue.”
“Eh si Luna? Wala naman sigurong chismis diyan, no?” sabay kindat ni Carla, kunwari inosente. But Boyet just grinned, clearly ready for the next round.
“Meron, uy! Si Lucia Natalia Monteverde? Tsaka ‘yung asawa niya ngayon?”
“Arranged marriage daw 'yon. Para lang mapalakas ang koneksyon ng Monteverde at Ramirez sa field ng medisina sa buong Asia.”
“At si Luna? Hindi raw niya mahal ‘yung Elijah Ramirez. May mahal siyang iba—pero pinili pa rin niya ang pamilya. Kasi ayaw niyang madisappoint sila.”
“Gan'on naman palagi,” Boyet muttered, shaking his head. Carla nodded in agreement, lips pursed.
Silence.
A thick, knowing kind of silence.
But Jayden broke the silence.
"Eh si Luca Monteverde? Anong alam niyo?" Carla sat up straighter, eager as ever.
"Basta ang alam lang namin, umalis siya sa Siargao para mag-surf. Iniwan ang pamilya Monteverde, tapos..." She paused, trying to remember the rest. "Wala ‘man jud klarong chismis kay Luca,"
t: (Wala naman talagang malinaw na chismis tungkol kay Luca.)
Boyet chimed in, eyes still on the ceiling like it held his memory. "Pero sabi, siya talaga ‘yung favorite child nila Leo at Aurelia Monteverde. Sobrang alaga. As in, ‘di na halos lumalabas ng bahay. Pero ‘yun nga—nung nagbinata, doon nagsimula magrebelde. Pinili ang surfing kaysa medisina. 2014 ‘yung last na nakita siya dito sa Siargao. And now—boom. Biglang balik."
Carla suddenly gasped. "Ayun! Naalala ko na!"
"May boyfriend daw ‘yan si Luca rito dati. Parang... puppy love ba. Pero ‘nung tinanong ko kung sino, jusko, ‘di raw nila kilala. Pero sure silang meron."
"Kasi raw, palaging nasa Cloud 9. Hindi lang daw surfing ang ginagawa niya doon. May ka-meet raw siya—pero palihim." Boyet leaned forward. "Eh alam mo naman ang mga Monteverde. Kapag may gusto? Gagawin lahat para protektahan. Kaya siguro walang nakakaalam kung sino ‘yung lalaki."
Jayden nodded slowly—like he was hearing this for the first time. But he wasn’t.
He knew every word of this story. Every damn detail.
He looked at Isla.
Still calm. Still listening. Still sipping coffee.
Still wearing that polite, unbothered smile like he wasn’t the boy they were accidentally talking about.
"Oh eh bakit kaya bumalik?" Kaycee piped in, voice playful. "Gusto balikan ‘yung ex niya na naiwan dito? Parang 'I'm ready for us to start again. Let’s get back together. Mwa mwa chup chup.' Gano’n?" He even acted it out dramatically.
Isla let out a soft chuckle.
"Imposible."
The room stilled. Everyone turned to Isla, shocked he finally said something after being so quiet. He was about to take a sip of his coffee again when he noticed their stares.
"Ano, Isla?" Carla crossed her arms and tilted her head. "What do you mean, imposible? Bakit? May alam ka ba na hindi namin alam?" Her eyebrows arched with suspicion.
Isla paused.
He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. His fingers tapped lightly on his coffee mug. And then—he tried to cover. "I mean... maybe he’s back kasi kasal na ‘yung kapatid niya."
But Kaycee frowned. "Sabi nung kasama niya kanina, dito na raw sila for good. Oh, edi nagbabalik nga siya. At baka kasama sa agenda niya ay balikan yung ex." Boyet and Carla nodded in sync.
Isla opened his mouth—then stopped. He just shrugged. "Ewan din."
But the way they all squinted at him? Suspicious as hell. As if they knew something was off. As if Isla had just confirmed what he was trying not to say.
He looked at Jayden. Jayden leaned back on the chair, smirking like a devil. That look on his face said, "Bahala ka sa buhay mo. You dug your own grave, bro."
Because here’s the truth Isla never said out loud.
Luca didn’t just leave.
He asked for permission.
He said, “This is my dream, Isla. Kahit hindi mo ako hintayin, sana suportahan mo pa rin ako.”
And Isla said, “Oo naman, Luca. Abutin mo ’yung pangarap mo.”
What he didn’t say was…
“Ako ba? Hindi mo man lang ako pipiliin?”
Because what do you say to someone who already made up their mind?
What do you hold on to, when they’re already letting go?
But some things are better left unsaid—
Especially when the person you’re saying goodbye to has already chosen the waves over you.
And all you had left was the shore, watching him disappear.
And now?
He’s back.
Not just on the island—
But in Isla’s orbit.
The same Luca. The same smile. The same pull.
And that…
That’s not something you just shrug off with an “ewan din.”
Not when it still hurts in places you’ve kept quiet for years.
Catangnan Bridge
5:45 PM
The bridge was quiet, save for the rustle of the wind and the distant hush of waves brushing the shore.
Everyone had gone home. Siargao was settling into its golden hour. And on the bridge—just two people walking, trying to make sense of something that had been unsaid for too long.
Jayden walked beside Isla, their shadows long against the pavement.
“So…” Jayden began, hesitantly. He was never good at small talk, especially not with someone carrying something this heavy.
“Luca’s back.” His tone was careful. Gentle, but probing.
Isla didn’t answer right away.
“So is your heart?” Jayden added, half a joke, half the truth.
Isla exhaled through a small laugh. Bitin. Kulang. Parang pilit lang na natatawa ang kanyang puso.
He looked at the fading sun. “Ewan ko rin, Jayden.”
Jayden stopped walking and he turned to him. “Puro ka nalang ewan, Isla.” His voice wasn’t annoyed. Just tired. Tired of watching him carry something he never talked about.
“Ano ba talaga? Siya pa rin ba?”
Isla kept walking. Jayden caught up. He didn’t answer right away. His eyes were far—somewhere beyond the sea, beyond the years.
Luca.
His name was still a wound disguised as a memory.
Isla closed his eyes. Just for a moment. But in that darkness, he saw him.
That stupid smile. The salt in his hair. The sound of his laugh when they used to sneak out at dawn just to catch the perfect waves. The way he once said, “One day, I’ll surf the world.”
And he believed in him. He loved that about him—how big he dreamed, how wild he wanted to live.
But then he left.
And took every version of the future with him.
“Eleven years,” he whispered. “Eleven fucking years.” He leaned onto the edge of the bridge, arms folded over the rail. The sea below shimmered in gold.
“Ang tagal ko rin naghintay, Jayden,” he confessed. “Akala ko makakalimot din ako eventually. Pero nung nakita ko siya kanina…” His voice broke. “…parang bumalik lahat.”
“Parang ako ‘yung naiwan sa oras—habang siya, tuloy lang sa buhay.”
Jayden didn’t speak. He let him unravel.
“Gusto ko siyang kamustahin. Gusto ko siyang yakapin.” He laughed, bitter. “Pero wala akong nasabi kundi, ‘Welcome back to Siargao, Mr. Lucero Monteverde.’”
“Para akong hindi ‘yung taong minsan niyang minahal.”
“Bakit ganon? Bakit siya lang ‘yung may karapatang umalis? Bakit siya lang ang pwedeng bumalik na parang walang nangyari?”
Jayden glanced at him. “At ikaw? Ano’ng natira sa’yo?”
Isla looked at him. For the first time, his eyes were full—not with tears, but something deeper.
Regret. Anger. Longing.
“Pangako ko sa sarili ko dati…” he said, voice quieter now. “Kapag bumalik siya, ituturing ko siyang estranghero.”
“Na tapos na lahat. Na hindi ko na siya mahal.” He looked down at his hands, knuckles white from gripping the bridge.
“Pero ngayon… ngayon ang ingay pa rin ng puso ko. Parang wala akong natutunan kundi kung paano siya mahalin.”
He swallowed. A pause.
“Tapos siya?” He looked up, face hollow. “Parang wala lang.”
Jayden stood beside him. Quiet, steady.
And Isla kept speaking, as if finally breaking the silence would stop him from breaking apart.
“Alam mo, Jayden… ang pinaka-masakit? Hindi ‘yung iniwan niya ako… kundi ‘yung kaya ko palang hintayin siya nang ganito katagal… at kahit isang beses, hindi niya naisip bumalik para sa’kin.”
A long silence followed. The kind that hums with unsaid things.
“Binalikan niya ang isla…”
“Pero hindi ako.”
And that—more than the years, more than the waiting—was what broke him the most.