The warm morning sunlight filtered in through the half-open blinds of Ellie's small home office. A soft breeze slipped through the window, gently brushing against the papers on her desk. She was surrounded by notebooks filled with sketches, menu plans, and reservation logs from her now-thriving small hotel and restaurant business. The scent of brewed herbal tea filled the air—her new favorite blend.
She sipped it slowly and looked around the room. It was simple but full of life. On the wall beside her desk was a framed photo of her graduation day—just her, smiling proudly in her cap and gown, holding a small bouquet her mother gave her.
But behind that smile was a storm of memories.
Flashback — Ellie's 4th Year Struggle
There were days when Ellie wanted to drop everything. She'd stay up late, scrolling through notes, studying until her eyes ached, and sometimes barely eating just to meet deadlines. Final year research papers, sleepless nights, oral defenses—it all felt endless. And what made it harder was the silence. The kind of silence that came from not hearing Ady's voice for days, even weeks.
She remembered one particular night, sitting on the floor of her dorm, crying quietly while her roommates were out. Her phone was In her hand. She had typed and retyped "I miss you" at least five times, but never pressed send. That was after she ended it.
"I need to focus," she whispered back then, but in truth, she was just tired—of trying, of not feeling enough, of loving someone she couldn't hold.
Still, she made it. With each breakdown came a small rise. And eventually, her name was called on stage. Her family cheered, but inside, she whispered one name: Ady.
Across the region, in his own home studio in Cebu, Ady was hunched over a prototype chessboard he had designed for kids—part of his side hustle business promoting mental development through chess. He was also building a small music-related platform online, selling learning guides for beginners and uploading covers of his favorite songs.
Life was different now. He wore clean but wrinkled clothes, drank too much instant coffee, and hadn't had a full 8 hours of sleep in weeks. But he was smiling.
His business was small but growing. He had clients. He had goals. He was free in his own space.
Yet some mornings, like today, he woke up reaching for a voice that wasn't there.
Flashback — Ady's 4th Year Fight
Ady pushed himself harder than ever during his final year. After working part-time all through vacation and even during the first semester, he often came to class tired. There were days when he presented in front of panels running only on coffee and 3 hours of sleep.
He remembered sitting in the school cafeteria once, just staring at his guitar case beside him, wondering if he should just sell it to afford new textbooks. But he didn't. He held onto it, just like he tried to hold onto her.
"I hope she's okay," he'd often wonder when scrolling through their old chats
But the silence became a weight he learned to carry. And when he finally held his diploma, he looked into the crowd—not for his parents—but for the empty space he once dreamed Ellie would fill.
Back to Present — Ellie's Home
Ellie stood and walked to the kitchen of her small restaurant, her staff buzzing around with breakfast preparations. She wasn't always this composed. She had panicked over opening permits, cried when her first supplier backed out, and nearly gave up when her marketing launch failed. But she picked herself back up.
And in every new challenge, her mind sometimes wandered back to him—What would Ady say? Would he have told me to keep going?
Sometimes, late at night, she scrolled through his profile. He barely posted. Only updates about chess coaching and the music page. But she smiled when she saw a new cover uploaded—an old song they both liked.
She never liked it. She just listened.
Ady's Present
Ady stood by his window, watching kids walk by after school. He took a deep breath and played a soft tune on his guitar—one of his old originals. He hadn't written a song since her. Not a full one, anyway.
He had tried dating once since then. It didn't last. He was kind. She was nice. But his heart had another echo, one that couldn't quite be replaced.
He went back to his desk and flipped open a notebook. It was filled with scattered business plans, but at the back were song lyrics—unfinished. He stared at one line: "Maybe in another time, another place, we'd be real."
He shook his head and closed it.
Simultaneous Reflections
That evening, Ellie sat on her balcony, watching the sun set. Her laptop was open, invoices pending. Her phone buzzed. It was Ashley.
Ashley: "So proud of you, El! When are you coming to the city? Also, I heard about
this guitar player who performed at a small event here in Palawan recently. It made me think of your music dreams — I wish Ady could be here to see the local talent too, but I know he's still far away in Cebu."
Ellie smiled softly, a bittersweet feeling stirring inside her. It wasn't Ady. Just someone else.
Across the seas, Ady was still in Cebu, working quietly on his music and chess projects, miles away from Palawan.
That night, Ellie looked up at the stars and whispered quietly, "I made it, Ady. I hope you did too."
And across the islands, Ady sat on his floor, guitar in hand, and softly strummed the tune of their favorite song.
They were both healing.
They were both building.
They were both… still wondering.