Ms. Writer and the Billionaire Playboy

Chapter 12

Logan

Mahogany table, wide blackboard in his back, and a front row of chairs in an amphitheater style in front of him. Logan continued clicking on his laptop. Finishing up a report for a university paper. He just finished his lecture, and for him, to see him in this frame seemed to be like just one of the usual daily activities. Well, except in his day off, where we can see him lounging in his condo’s sofa, watching the latest crime story or geographic documentary.

Logan has always been fascinated with structure and logic. He can confidently say that his mind is a big volume of logic, and he operates by it daily. No wonders he loves number, he teaches Calculus in college. He loves to see situations in orders, numbers in his head, he loves solving things that makes sense.

Maybe that’s why he has not threaded into the world of emotions. His solitary life made much more logic and sense more than the deemless chaotic and illogical world of feelings. That’s why, if he can, he would love to be solitary all his life. And he thinks he can do it.

He is not like Carter, or Matt, his brothers who live and breathe women. Hindi naman din siya bakla. He just felt living at peace with his own structured world of habits and organization. Walang gulo, walang iisipin sa ulo. He cannot fathom emotions so well also.

When their father died when he was younger, he locked himself up in his room, and just watched documentaries the entire day, even solved a few math problems during the day. He felt discomfort in sadness, and he feel he would die if he gets any inch closer to any crashing or heightened feelings. He just like balance, stability and sense.

And women would never give him that. Unless that woman is a robot, maybe. That’s why, when Matt gave them the challenge, to provide a kinship to continue the Vallejo lines, he just chuckled and laughed deeply inside. No way he would ever participate to Matt’s crazy antics. It’s amazing how dying could pour thoughtless ideas to one person, no matter how brilliant that person is like Matt.

He would never, ever fall in love, that’s for sure.

“Excuse me?” a voice echoed from somewhere. It felt like a dream, so much like a dream, because it felt like he heard some angel.

There, standing in the doorway, was a lady, standing and looking at him wide eyed, shifting gaze, almost peeking. It looked like she was one of the students in the university. Is she?

“Sir?” she croaked, napalunok ng laway.

“Yes?” he looked at her straightly, trying to remember where he has seen her before, or if he knows her. Maybe she’s one of his students?

“Uhm,” she looked like she was blushing, for god knows why.

“Yes?” ulit niya ulit. This time, he can already notice that she was quite cute, a doting eyes, and petite, fairly good curves. Not that it has an effect on him. He was just assessing, if that’s how you put it.

Assessment is a good term for observation, it means observing with a cause, not that he has any use of assessing this person. She was quite harmless, with a sling bag on her right shoulder, one notebook in her other hand.

“Sir Logan, c-crush po kita, crush kita!” she worded carefully, enough for him to hear it, with that sudden hight pitched voice in the end, and for it to be registered in his brain, and when it started to register in his brain…she already ran away, gone like a ghost.

Just like that. His perfectly constructed world just a few seconds ago, his life of habits and organization, has been now ascended into a life of sudden shamble and confusion. What the f*ck did he hear?

He already know the possibility that someone might admire him, he has heard hushes of it, and some was vocal about it too. He would hear like. ‘Sir, crush ka ni’ followed by various names and cheers or kilig screams.

But that girl, that ghost of a woman, who was there but now just gone…said it in a way that has put his thoughts in shamble. Now, he would start thinking. Who is she?

Sino ang babaeng iyon. He started to save his sanity by immediately collecting his things. He shouldn’t delay, and his routine is just to go directly to his car and drive home. But he found himself catching his steps, trying to wiggle his head and roam it around.

Maybe she ran off to the field? He was trying to recollect what she wore. It was a green flowered shirt, blue jeans, white Tommy shoes? He was trying to save all the details of her face in his memory.

And she knows him. She called him by his name. Then this girl, is probably studying in this university? But what course, or department?

The genius, relaxed and cool Logan, was getting curious and getting irritated with this mystery. He turned on the ignition, still keeping an eye around the peripheral of his surrounding. But what if that girl is a stalker? Nah, shut up Logan.

But the thought of that lady has followed him. Even when he arrived in his condo, while he was precisely slicing the ingredients of the food he will cook, he was still asking himself who she was. Why would she even run away. Yes, she was brave enough to admit her affection to him, but she was too chicken to even run.

So that’s how he will call her from now on: The Chicken Girl.

The Chicken Girl has continued terrorizing him even when he was showering, even when he was cutting his cooking tidbits in fine and symmetrical thin slices. He was terrorized even when he has finished cooking, and he was chewing his meal infront of the documentary he was watching.

When he turned the lamp on, his whole body neatly tucked in his crisp and clean bedding, the image of that lady has stucked in his mind. Just briefly and a few seconds, like a dream or an image he needs to catch and rewind in his mind over and over again, like a reel of mystery. Damn it.

Who is this chicken girl? And what mystery does she hold? Why the f*ck did she has to say that this random day, this random year, and completely overturning his planned day and life.

It was a mess, he is now in a big problem. He needed to solve this mystery very soon, he was sure of that.

Chelsie

Chelsie blinked twice, making sure it was the younger version of Matt. And it really was, she was sure as hell. Just look at that face in the picture frame, at nakakabulag sa ganda ang dalaga kung saan nakapulupot ang braso nito. They were blinding and radiating with love. Ito yung mga tipo ng couple na nafe-feature sa mga cover jacket ng romance novel.

What happened? Maybe this was the woman he was referring to in his short answer. Yung babaeng nang iwan sa kaniya sa gitna ng pagkalugmok nito noon. Other than that brief detail, Matt didn’t provide anything else. Should he ask him?

Apollo was silent, like observing her.

Muntik na niyang makalimutan kung bakit siya nandoon. Oo nga pala, gusto ni Apollo ng foods! She stepped back, about to put space between herself and putting back the frame in the shelf, when suddenly, she hit her back unto something.

It felt like soft and hard at the same time…and the scent-

Halos napalundag siya, and the frame in her hand slipped, falling flat in the floor, she can still hear a bit of the smash and glass shattering noise which accompanied her almost scream too.

It was no other than Matt. Staring at her, in confusion and darkness. And as if in connivance, Apollo barked, barked at her, bailing his loyalty out of her and back into Matt.

“Chelsie?” it was an unbelieving voice, his eyes back and forth to the floor and back to her face.

“Matt,” it was almost a whisper. She felt her face crimsoned. Lokong Apollo, pinahamak pa siya!