Smile
“Stop that long smile of yours there!”
“Why would I stop? You said I look more handsome when I smile.l,” he said confidently.
“It used to be, Toci, not now,” I say sarcastically.
“Are you sure?” he smirked.
“That beautiful smile and your flowery mouth used to make me fall in love. But not now, every time I see that smile of yours I just remember that that’s also where you got the women you’re sleeping with. “I said irritably, the scene in their locker room entered my mind again. He is an asshole!
“You know they’re nothing. You’re still my queen and I’m your king.” He smiled as he said this.
“Go away toci.” I told him.
As I catch sight of him approaching, a sigh escapes my lips, heavy with frustration. He’s the guy who just won’t take a hint, who persists in his affections despite my clear disinterest. Every interaction with him becomes a battle between my annoyance and my attempts to be polite.
His long phrases of adoration and admiration, once flattering, have now become an incessant buzzing in my ears. It’s as if he doesn’t understand the boundaries I’ve set, disregarding my lack of reciprocation and pushing forward with his unwanted advances. It’s infuriating, this lack of respect for my autonomy and my right to choose.
I’ve made it clear, in both subtle and not-so-subtle ways, that his feelings are not requited. Yet, he persists, as if convinced that his unwavering determination will eventually sway me. But instead, it only deepens my irritation, intensifying my desire to be free from his persistent presence.
Each encounter becomes a delicate dance of avoiding his overzealous attempts to win my favor. I find myself dodging his compliments and deflecting his gestures of affection, hoping he will finally understand that I am not interested. Yet, he remains blind to my hints, refusing to acknowledge the boundaries I’ve set.
His persistence chips away at my patience, making me question why he refuses to accept my decision. Is it a lack of understanding? A belief that he knows what’s best for me, despite my own feelings? Whatever his reasons may be, they only serve to heighten my irritation and reinforce my determination to distance myself from him.
I am frustrated by his inability to grasp that my feelings are not his to manipulate or control. I deserve to be heard, to have my choices respected, and to not be pursued against my will. It’s a reminder that even in the face of unwelcome attention, my voice matters, and my boundaries are valid.
So, as I navigate the delicate balance of maintaining civility while protecting my own emotional well-being, I find solace in the strength of my own convictions. I will continue to assert my boundaries, to make it unequivocally clear that his affections are not reciprocated. And in doing so, I reclaim my power, reminding myself that my happiness and peace of mind are worth defending, even in the face of persistent irritation.
He held out his hand in front of me. “Dance with me.”
“Please?” he said with puppy eyes.
“Babe?”
He is a person who has a dirty habit.
“Babe, please?”
“You’re annoying Toci.” I was irritated by his rebuke. He can’t take me that way.
“Babe?”
“Babe, please?”
The fool growled even more.
He’s the man who lingers in my life, unwanted and intrusive, refusing to acknowledge my desire for him to be gone. Every encounter with him feels like an invasion of my personal space, leaving me yearning for an escape.
His long phrases of affection and attention, once perhaps flattering, now feel suffocating and overwhelming. It’s as if he fails to comprehend the weight of my discomfort, persisting in his pursuit despite my repeated pleas for him to leave me be. It’s frustrating, the way he dismisses my boundaries and disregards my explicit wishes.
I’ve made it crystal clear, through both words and actions, that his presence in my life is unwanted. Yet, he persists, as if my feelings and autonomy hold no significance to him. It’s infuriating, this lack of respect for my personal agency and the boundaries I’ve established.
Each encounter becomes a test of my patience and endurance, as I struggle to assert myself and create distance between us. I find myself trying to evade his advances, seeking solace in anonymity and solitude. Yet, he refuses to acknowledge my plea for space, disregarding the toll his persistent presence takes on my well-being.
His refusal to let go only intensifies my desire to break free from his grasp. I am exhausted by his unwelcome attention, yearning for the freedom to live my life without the weight of his unwanted affection. His persistence is a constant reminder that my desires and comfort hold no significance to him, fueling my frustration and amplifying my determination to rid myself of his presence.
I deserve to be heard and respected. I deserve to have my boundaries honored and my wishes acknowledged. It’s a reminder that my consent matters, and my well-being should never be compromised by someone who refuses to understand or respect my desire for them to leave me alone.
So, as I navigate the treacherous path of removing him from my life, I cling to my inner strength and determination. I will continue to assert myself, to demand the distance I so desperately need. And in doing so, I reclaim my autonomy, reaffirming that my peace of mind and emotional well-being are worth fighting for, even in the face of unwanted persistence.
“Oh ?! But the queen and king aren’t dancing?” Toci and I turned to the speaker, Hero.
“We’re just waiting for the crowd to get tired and stop dancing so that we can own the dance floor.” Toci said smiling.
No way!
I will not dance with you. He’s my arrogant ex, the one who inflicted wounds on my heart and left me shattered. The thought of dancing with him fills me with a mixture of dread and resentment. I have no desire to subject myself to his presence, to be enveloped in the memories of our tumultuous past.
His arrogance, once something I may have been attracted to, now repulses me. The long phrases of condescension and superiority that used to echo in my ears feel like salt on old wounds. I refuse to allow myself to be drawn into his manipulative games, to once again become a pawn in his self-centered narrative.
Dancing with him would be an act of surrender, a concession to his ego and a validation of his past actions. I will not be a prop in his attempts to showcase his supposed superiority or to maintain an illusion of control. My heart and dignity are far too valuable to be sacrificed on the altar of his arrogance.
The wounds he inflicted still linger, reminders of the pain and heartbreak I endured. I have worked hard to heal and rebuild my sense of self, and I refuse to allow him to disrupt the progress I’ve made. I am no longer the person who danced to his tune, who succumbed to his whims. I am stronger now, with a newfound self-respect that shields me from his toxic influence.
So, as he approaches, extending a hand in an attempt to lure me into his dance, I stand firm in my resolve. I will not be swayed by his charm or intimidated by his arrogance. I am no longer bound by the expectations or desires of someone who treated me with such disregard.
I deserve to dance with partners who appreciate and respect me, who cherish the connection we share on the dance floor. Dancing should be a joyful expression of freedom and self-expression, not a reenactment of past pain and humiliation.
In this moment, I choose myself. I choose to honor my own emotional well-being and prioritize my healing over any superficial social expectations. I will gracefully decline his invitation, reclaiming my power and declaring that I am no longer under his spell.
And as I step away, I feel a sense of liberation washing over me. I am free from the shackles of his arrogance, embracing the joy of dancing on my own terms. I am resilient, and I refuse to let his presence diminish my worth or compromise my happiness.
My forehead furrowed as the people roared.
“Who’s that?” said by Hero.
“I don’t know, I don’t care.” Shrugged my promise. I have no intention of looking back at any nonsense tonight.
I have no appetite.
“What’s happening?” Toci asked someone who passed by.
“The nerds!”
Never in my life have I thought I would be happy when I heard that word.
I seemed to live to hear that word.
My eyebrow raised. “Are they too ugly and really looking at each other?”
“It’s the opposite, Celiza.”Toci said. I followed the look in its eyes.
There is a group at the entrance.
A girl is standing in the middle of the crowd with her simple white tube dress flowing. Her hair is curled and she’s wearing light makeup.
No …
This can’t be happening.
I greeted my teeth.
That ugly nerd! I’m telling you, he’s just pretending. Pretend to be a nerd but not really.
I’m sure she did it on purpose.
My gaze landed next to it. My gaze remained on him.
He came.
He came with her.
He’s wearing a clean and neat black coat and tie. Because he is thin, he will look like a hanger because it is really loose with him.
She wrapped her arms around him while she smiled at the crowd. Everyone’s attention is on her.
I darted my eyes at him.
I will never ask for your help you fucking nerd!
The two of us met eye to eye. I quickly avoided you.
My heart won’t stop beating fast!
Damn! This damn heart is still in sync!
“Damn, she’s pretty.”
I frowned at Toci. “Are you kidding me ?!” I glared at him.
“She’s more wholesome than you.” Shrugged his promise.
I greeted my teeth.
“Then fuck her.”
Even before I left, it grabbed my arm.
“Are you serious? You’re mad because of that ---”
“Don’t fucking touch me, Toci.” I strongly promise. My chest went up and down quickly.
“Are you jealous?”
“You’ve never been so jealous like this unlike before …” he paused. “Are you threatened by her?”
I snorted.
His forehead furrowed.
I stared at that woman. I don’t even know her name. He was like a mushroom that suddenly appeared.
A poisonous one … But not to me.
My gaze shifted to Magnus.
This is what you want huh?
I glared at both of them.
If he thought he was Taylor Swift in the music video of you belong with me he was mistaken.
Maybe he’s just a foot away.
The nerdy girl, the one who has always been invisible, suddenly steals the spotlight, and an inferno of fury begins to burn within me. How could this happen? How could she, with her glasses and unassuming demeanor, capture the attention that rightfully belongs to me?
In a swirl of sequined dresses and flashing cameras, the attention lavished upon her is like salt on a festering wound. Long gone are the days when I effortlessly commanded the gaze of the room, where my every move elicited whispers of admiration and longing. Now, she is the one who basks in the glow of their admiration, while I’m relegated to a mere spectator in my own narrative.
The long phrases of praise that used to be mine are now directed at her, as if her newfound popularity erases years of being an outsider. It’s infuriating to witness, like a betrayal from those who were once loyal to me. They flock to her, eager to be associated with her newfound status, while I stand on the sidelines, my anger simmering beneath a façade of forced smiles.
I try to dismiss her as an imposter, a temporary disruption to the natural order of things. But the truth is, deep down, her presence stings because it reminds me of my own vulnerability. It forces me to confront the reality that popularity is fleeting, that there will always be someone waiting in the shadows, ready to steal the limelight.
But this anger, this fury, it’s not just about her. It’s about the insecurities that have plagued me for far too long, the constant need for external validation that has become my crutch. I realize that my anger is misdirected, a reflection of my own fears and shortcomings.
In the midst of this storm of emotions, I must find solace in the knowledge that my worth does not reside solely in the attention of others. I must remember that my value goes beyond outward appearances and popularity contests. I am more than the fleeting gaze of the crowd, and I will rise above this petty jealousy.
So, as I navigate the sea of prom attendees, a fire burns within me, urging me to redefine my sense of self. I will channel this fury into motivation, striving to be the best version of myself, not for the approval of others, but for my own fulfillment. And in doing so, I will transcend the limitations of fleeting attention and discover a strength that cannot be extinguished by the presence of a temporary rival.
“Looks like you have an opponent in the crowd.” Said Hero.
“Oh she’s dreaming if she thinks she’s qualified for the crown.”
He laughed.
“She’s no queen.”
“Lets stop for a minute, students. We are going to announce our Queen and King of the night.” Smiling promise of Mrs. Defend.
“But, first I would like to thank our beloved Dean for letting us have the best night of our lives!” said Mrs. happily. Defend
“Whoooo!”
“Yessss!”
Students clapped and applauded around.
“Okay, so stop now. We choose the Queen and the king of the night based on how they look, if they really fit to be the queen and king.” Explanation by Mrs. Defend.
My chest almost exploded with excitement.
I glance at their table.
She can’t be the queen. He can’t even take the crown.
No one dares to make any noise. We are all waiting for it.
I swallowed.
Bwiset makes me nervous!
“Our Queen and King of the night is …”
“Celiza and Toci!” My eyes widened when I heard Mrs. Tanggol.
I opened my mouth to call my name.
A smile crept on my lips.
I stared at their table. The face of that bwiset nerd can’t be painted.
I smirked at her.
“Whooooo!”
“Yes!”
“They deserve it!”
“It’s beautiful and handsome!”
“You’re such a thing!” Those are just a few of the shouts I hear as the two of us slow down.
“That whore ?!
“Gosh! Are they blind?”
“I’m prettier than her! Are they blind ?!”
“They look so good together.” There are only a few of these words that I hear, just like this, the same as what they say.
“A fuckboy and a whore, perfect couple.” I could almost hear what I heard but I could no longer growl and confront the woman who said it before when Toci squeezed my waist and guided me up to the stage.
Mrs. Defend the holder of the crown that will be crowned on our head. While Ms. Pity the sash we will wear.
The black in Ms.’s eyes has almost disappeared. Satan finds it hard for me to wear the crown.
I waved for all of them. They shouted. From here, I could see that pretentious nerd.
Hopefully maybe he’ll win tonight.
Pity.
Seeing her disappointed face satisfies me.
I grinned.
As I walked onto the stage, the spotlight shining down on me, my heart swelled with a mix of pride and exhilaration. The audience erupted into applause, and I could feel their eyes fixed upon me, their whispers of admiration filling the air. It was a moment of triumph, a moment that surpassed all my expectations. I had just been crowned prom queen, and a sense of uncontainable happiness washed over me.
But there was something else that made this victory all the sweeter—a feeling that surged through my veins as I glanced over at the girl I had defeated, the so-called “nerdy” girl. In that moment, I couldn’t help but revel in my success, knowing that I had triumphed over someone who had always seemed untouchable in her academic prowess and quirky charm.
I admit, there was a time when I envied her intelligence and her ability to effortlessly navigate the complexities of science and mathematics. She was admired by teachers and adored by her peers, the epitome of a perfect student. But as the night unfolded, I realized that popularity is not solely defined by academic achievements or intellectual pursuits. It is a culmination of various factors, including charisma, confidence, and social prowess—areas in which I had invested time and effort.
As the night progressed, I watched her smile fade into a mixture of disappointment and disbelief. Her eyes betrayed a hint of sadness, perhaps a realization that her intellect alone wasn’t enough to win the hearts of her peers. In that instant, a sense of satisfaction washed over me, not because I had taken away her moment, but because I had proven that true popularity extends beyond the realm of books and equations.
I had come a long way from being overshadowed by her brilliance, always feeling like I couldn’t measure up. But this victory shattered those self-imposed limitations and affirmed my belief in the power of growth, transformation, and self-confidence. I had worked hard to cultivate my own unique qualities, honing my social skills, and expanding my circle of friends. And now, as prom queen, I felt a sense of validation—an affirmation that my efforts were recognized and rewarded.
But amidst my joy, I couldn’t help but reflect on the valuable lessons this experience taught me. It reminded me that appearances can be deceiving, that labels and stereotypes often fail to capture the depth and potential within each individual. It showed me that success comes in different forms and that true happiness lies in embracing one’s own journey rather than comparing it to others.
As I stood there, basking in the glory of my victory, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for the unexpected twist of fate that led me to this moment. It was a reminder that life is full of surprises, and sometimes, the underdog prevails. I had defeated the nerdy girl, but instead of reveling in her defeat, I chose to celebrate the triumph of my own growth, my own self-discovery.
Prom queen or not, I knew that this experience would forever be etched in my memory as a testament to the power of perseverance, self-belief, and the beauty of embracing one’s individuality. And as I walked off the stage, hand in hand with my newfound crown, I couldn’t help but wear a genuine smile—a smile that reflected not just my victory, but the sheer happiness of a girl who had overcome her own doubts and emerged stronger than ever before.
