After the lunch with Mr. De Leon, the rest of the week felt like a blur for Erica. The pressures of family expectations weighed heavily on her, and the thought of her father's disapproving gaze haunted her. I can't keep living this way, she thought, her heart aching for something more.
As the weekend approached, her friends Maya and Jess were determined to pull her out of her funk. "You need to let loose!" Maya insisted during a video call. "Forget about everything for one night. Just have fun!"
"Yeah, seriously," Jess added, her grin infectious. "You've been way too stressed lately. It's not healthy."
Erica hesitated, her mind still tangled in the web of her obligations. "I don't know, guys. What if someone recognizes me or tells my parents?"
"Who cares?" Maya said, throwing her hands up dramatically. "It's not like you're doing anything wrong by going to a party. You deserve a break."
Jess chimed in with a smirk. "Yeah, plus, think of it as rebellion therapy. You might actually enjoy being a little bad for once."
Erica couldn't help but laugh. "Fine, you win. Let's do it." A small thrill sparked in her chest as she added, "Just one night of fun, though. No drama."
I need this. I need to feel free, even if it's just for a few hours.
*****
The night of the party arrived, and Erica found herself stepping into a packed house pulsing with energy. Music thumped through the air, colorful lights flashed wildly, and laughter echoed around the room.
"Erica! You made it!" Maya shouted, weaving through the crowd to pull her in for a hug. "This is going to be epic!"
"You better not back out now," Jess teased, handing her a red plastic cup.
"I'm here, aren't I?" Erica replied, her lips curving into a genuine smile. This already feels better than pretending to care about mergers and market trends.
"Drink up, babe! Tonight, we're letting loose!" Maya declared, raising her glass.
"Cheers to that!" Erica said, clinking her cup with theirs. She took a sip, the drink's warmth spreading through her. Okay, I can do this. Just enjoy the night.
*****
With her friends by her side, they made their way to the makeshift bar, where someone was pouring shots.
"What are we starting with?" Maya asked, her eyes gleaming mischievously.
"Tequila!" the bartender shouted over the music, already filling shot glasses.
"Oh boy, here we go," Jess said with a laugh, grabbing her glass.
Erica hesitated for a moment before taking a glass. "What's the worst that could happen, right?" she joked, raising it in the air.
"That's the spirit!" Maya cheered.
*****
After a few rounds, Erica felt a buzz humming through her body. The music seemed louder, the lights brighter, and the weight on her shoulders lighter. This is exactly what I needed, she thought, swaying to the beat.
The night spiraled into laughter and games. Erica found herself in the middle of a heated round of beer pong.
"Erica, come on! You've got this!" Maya shouted, pumping her fist in the air.
"I'm going to crush this, just watch!" Erica replied, feeling an unfamiliar surge of confidence.
Her friends roared as she sank shot after shot, earning cheers from the growing crowd around the table.
"You're a natural!" Jess hollered.
"Who knew all those fancy dinners could prepare me for this?" Erica joked, reveling in the attention. This feels so much better than being perfect for everyone else.
*****
As the night wore on, Erica's inhibitions evaporated with every drink. The music thumped, and the crowd blurred into a swirl of colors and laughter.
"Hey, everyone! Watch this!" Erica suddenly shouted, climbing onto a table in the middle of the room.
"Erica, don't!" Maya called out, her voice edged with concern.
"Relax! I'm fine!" Erica shot back, striking a dramatic pose. This is what freedom feels like.
The room erupted in cheers as she twirled, her laughter ringing out. But in the middle of her triumphant moment, her heel caught on the edge of the table.
"Whoa!" Erica yelped as she lost her balance and tumbled to the floor.
Gasps filled the air, followed by raucous laughter.
"Are you okay?" Jess rushed over, kneeling beside her.
Erica sat up, her face flushed. "I'm fine! Just a little tumble. No big deal." She tried to laugh it off, but embarrassment burned in her chest. Great. Just great.
The rest of the night blurred into a whirlwind of reckless choices. Erica danced provocatively, flirted with strangers, and posted a series of impulsive videos on social media. This is who I want to be. Carefree. Fun. Alive.
But as the party began to wind down, reality loomed like a storm cloud on the horizon.
*****
The next morning, Erica woke up to a pounding headache and a sinking feeling in her stomach. Sunlight streamed through her window, harsh and unforgiving. What did I do last night? she thought, reaching for her phone, her fingers stiff and uncooperative.
As soon as her eyes landed on the screen, her heart dropped. Notifications flooded her feed, each one more devastating than the last. Videos and pictures from the party, where she'd been dancing on the table, laughing uncontrollably, and flirting with people she barely knew. It was all there, in vivid detail.
No. No, no, no. Panic surged through her veins, her pulse hammering in her ears. She started scrolling furiously, her eyes darting from one video to the next. There, in the comments, mocking jokes mixed with a few supportive ones, but they were all equally overwhelming.
The phone buzzed in her hand. It was a message from Maya: "You need to see this. Everyone's talking about you."
"What do you mean?" Erica typed back, her hands trembling as she stared at the screen, willing herself to keep it together.
Maya's response came quickly: "Check the group chat. It's bad."
Erica's stomach churned. With a deep breath, she opened the chat, and the overwhelming wave of messages hit her all at once. Friends were sharing the videos, some joking, some criticizing, others laughing, but it all felt like a giant, collective judgment.
This can't be happening. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as the weight of the situation settled over her. Her parents would find out. They're going to see this, they'll know. And there's no taking it back.
Her phone buzzed again, another message from Maya: "I'm sorry, Erica. I didn't know it would blow up like this. We tried to delete it, but it's already everywhere."
Erica read the message, but it didn't make her feel any better. Tried to delete it? She couldn't believe it. How could Maya even think that deleting it would fix anything now? This is my life, my reputation, and I just ruined it all in one night.
Sitting on her bed, Erica felt a heavy weight press down on her chest. How can I fix this? How can I undo what I've done? The carefree girl from last night, the one who had danced and laughed without a care, felt like a complete stranger. She didn't recognize herself anymore.
"What am I going to do?" she muttered under her breath, her voice shaky.
I can't hide from this. It's out there. Everyone's seen it. And worse, my parents are going to find out. They're going to be so disappointed.
Her mind raced with scenarios. Would her dad shout? Would her mom be disappointed? No. Don't think about it. Don't think about what's coming next. But it was hard not to. The inevitable confrontation felt like a storm cloud hanging over her, just waiting to burst.
Her phone buzzed again, pulling her back to reality. It was a message from her dad. "We need to talk. Get downstairs now."
Erica's breath hitched. This is it. I'm screwed. There's no way out of this.
Her thoughts spun wildly. I can't believe this is happening. Why did I do this? Why did I let myself get carried away?
She stood up, feeling light-headed as she grabbed her phone and glanced once more at the messages. Maya had apologized again, but Erica didn't have the strength to respond. She couldn't focus on that now. I need to face my dad. But I can't. I don't know how.
But before she could take another step, she heard the sound of her father's voice from downstairs. His tone was firm, unmistakable.
"Erica!" he shouted, his voice carrying up the stairs.
Oh no, I'm screwed. Erica whispered to herself, a chill running down her spine. She felt her stomach twist, nausea rising as she slowly made her way downstairs, her legs feeling like they might give way at any moment.
The journey down felt like an eternity, each step heavier than the last. What is he going to say? What's going to happen? I'm done for.
Her father was waiting for her in the living room, arms crossed, his expression tight. And just as she reached the bottom of the stairs, he looked up, his eyes hardening as he caught sight of her.
"You're going to explain all of this, right now."
*****
The atmosphere at the Villanueva residence was thick with tension. Erica sat on the edge of her seat, her fingers nervously tapping against the armrest, eyes fixed on her father as he paced back and forth. What's going to happen to me? I hope nothing wrong happens.
At the grand staircase leading to Mr. Villanueva's office, Letty and Lila, two of the household maids, stood quietly, their ears catching the sharp rise and fall of voices from within.
"Poor Miss Erica," Letty whispered, clutching her hands to her chest. "Do you think she'll really be sent away?"
Lila frowned, her face shadowed with concern. "I hope not. She may be a little spoiled, but she doesn't deserve to be exiled."
Letty nodded in agreement, her eyes darting to the closed office door. "She's young. Everyone makes mistakes. This punishment feels so... harsh."
Lila let out a soft sigh. "Mr. Villanueva is only trying to teach her a lesson, but it's painful to see."
The voices from the office grew louder, cutting through their whispered conversation. The maids exchanged a glance, their worry deepening. "I just hope she learns from this," Lila murmured. "But I wish it didn't have to be like this."
Every step he took seemed deliberate, his jaw clenched, his expression dark. Her mother sat nearby, hands folded tightly in her lap, her gaze filled with concern but offering no comfort. How did I let it go this far? What have I done?
Erica could feel the weight of the previous night hanging over her like a storm cloud.
Finally, her father stopped pacing and turned to face her, his voice cold and steady. "This behavior, Erica, is unacceptable."
Erica swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. I knew I'd messed up, but I didn't think it would come to this.
"Your reckless actions have embarrassed this family," he continued, his eyes sharp and unforgiving. "Do you realize what kind of reputation we have in this city? People look up to us, Erica. They expect dignity and poise, not... whatever that spectacle was last night."
Her cheeks flushed, and she struggled to meet his eyes. "Dad, I... I just wanted to have some fun. I didn't mean for things to get so out of hand."
He scoffed, folding his arms tightly across his chest. "Fun? At the expense of our family's reputation? You've been given everything - a life of privilege, opportunities most people could only dream of - and this is how you repay us? By behaving like a spoiled child with no sense of responsibility?"
The words stung, each one landing like a blow. Erica felt a rush of shame and frustration, mixing together in a tangled mess. Why can't he understand? I just wanted one night to be free, to escape all these expectations.
Her mother, sensing the rising tension, spoke up gently, her voice soft but firm. "Erica, honey, your father's right. We've always encouraged you to enjoy life, but there are boundaries. You have to remember who you are and what we expect from you."
Erica clenched her fists in her lap, biting back the urge to defend herself. But before she could find the words, her father's voice cut through the air like a knife. "This cannot continue. I won't allow it."
The finality in his tone sent a chill down Erica's spine. "If you're going to act like a rebellious teenager, then perhaps it's time you experience what life is like without all these comforts. You need discipline, and clearly, that discipline won't come from staying here."
Her heart pounded in her chest. "What... what do you mean?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
He turned to face her, his expression unyielding. "I'm sending you away, Erica. Away from this city, away from the distractions that have clearly clouded your judgment. Maybe some time in a place where life isn't so... comfortable will help you understand what it means to be a Villanueva."
Exile? He's sending me away? The word felt foreign, a punishment that seemed far too harsh for what she considered a single mistake.
"Where are you sending me?" she demanded, her voice cracking, but the words barely making it out.
Her father's gaze remained steely. "My friend, Aunt Nena, has agreed to take you in." He paused, the weight of his words hanging in the air. "She lives in Tuguegarao - a quiet, rural town where you'll have time to reflect on your choices and learn some real responsibility. You'll stay with her until I'm convinced, you're ready to come back."
Tuguegarao. The name struck her like a cold gust of wind. He's serious about this.
"Dad, this is... this is too much!" she protested, her voice trembling with desperation. "I can't just leave my whole life here! My friends, my school - everything I know is here in the city!"
He shook his head, his expression unwavering. "Maybe that's exactly the problem, Erica. You're too attached to this lifestyle. It's time for you to see a different way of life, one where hard work and discipline matter more than parties and social media."
This isn't fair. He's overreacting! Erica's mind raced, her thoughts spiraling. She turned to her mother, her voice a desperate plea. "Mom, please," she said, her eyes wide with fear. "You can't let him do this."
Her mother sighed, looking torn but resigned. "Your father and I discussed this, Erica. We both think this will be good for you. It's... for your own good."
A heavy silence fell over the room, and Erica felt her world slowly crumbling around her. This can't be happening. I'm really being sent away.
Her father's voice broke the silence, firm and final. "You leave next week. Start packing."
*****
Hours later, Erica sat in her room, suitcases sprawled open before her. Clothes, books, and memories were scattered across her bed in a chaotic mess. Each item she touched felt like a piece of her life she was being forced to leave behind - a favorite dress, a book her friend had given her, photos from happier times.
Erica's room was a whirlwind of emotions and movement. Clothes, shoes, and trinkets lay strewn across the floor as she angrily packed her belongings. Each item she placed in her suitcase felt like a piece of her identity slipping away.
A knock on the door interrupted her storm of activity. Letty and Lila peeked inside hesitantly, their faces a mix of worry and sympathy.
"Miss Erica," Letty began softly, stepping closer. "Can we help you pack?"
Erica paused, her hands gripping a stack of folded clothes. She turned to them, her eyes rimmed red from tears but her expression steely. "I can do it myself," she said firmly.
The maids hesitated but didn't argue. They watched her silently for a moment before retreating to the doorway.
Lila looked back over her shoulder, her voice barely above a whisper. "If you need anything, Miss Erica, we're here."
Erica didn't respond. Instead, she turned back to her suitcase, shoving a blouse into the corner with more force than necessary. Once the door clicked shut behind them, her shoulders sagged, the defiance melting away to reveal the hurt underneath.
They're all treating me like I'm some lost cause. Like I can't figure out my own life.
She sat on the edge of her bed, her gaze dropping to the floor. The room around her, once her sanctuary, now felt foreign - like it no longer belonged to her.
As Erica zipped up the last suitcase, she glanced at the reflection in her vanity mirror. Her usual confidence was gone, replaced by someone she hardly recognized.
If they think this will break me, they're wrong, she thought, her jaw tightening. I'll prove to them I'm stronger than they think.
With trembling hands, she folded a sweater, each movement heavy with the weight of her father's decision. I can't believe this is happening.
Tears blurred her vision as she stuffed another shirt into her suitcase, the fabric slipping through her fingers. Why is he doing this to me? Doesn't he know this isn't fair? A hot tear slid down her cheek, followed by another, and another.
Her anger bubbled up inside, mixing with a growing sense of helplessness. This is my life. My friends. My world. And he's just ripping it away like it means nothing.
She grabbed her phone, her fingers shaking as she hovered over the contact for her best friend. "I'm being sent away. Can you believe it? I don't know what I'm going to do..." She typed the message, hoping for a quick reply, but the phone sat silent.
No answer. The silence felt deafening, the growing isolation pressing in on her.
Erica sat on her bed, clutching the phone tightly to her chest. She let the tears fall freely now, her sobs shaking her shoulders. I don't deserve this... I'm not just some puppet he can control.
A soft knock at the door startled her, and she quickly wiped her eyes, not wanting to let her mother see the tears. "Erica?" her mother's voice was gentle, hesitant.
"Mom, please..." Erica's voice cracked, and she turned to face her mother, her eyes pleading. "Please, don't make me do this."
Her mother moved closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I know this is hard, honey. But your father thinks it's the only way. He just wants you to understand..."
"Understand what?" Erica cut her off, her voice trembling with frustration and anger. "That he can control every aspect of my life? That I'm just supposed to do whatever he says without question?"
Her mother sighed, looking away. "Sometimes, we need to be pushed to grow, Erica. Tuguegarao isn't what you're used to, but maybe... maybe it will show you a different side of life."
Different side of life? Erica's chest tightened. How could she say that? This isn't about growth. This is punishment.
As her mother left, closing the door softly behind her, Erica looked around her room, her heart heavy with sorrow and defiance. This was her home. Her space. And now it was being taken away.
She shoved the last of her belongings into the suitcase, zipping it shut with a finality that made her stomach twist. This isn't over. If they think they can control my life forever, they're wrong.