Chapter 5: Headlines and Heartlines
Late April 1996 – Manila
The photo appeared on page three of Showbiz Now! magazine.
A grainy, twilight-shot image of Bella Santiago in a hotel robe, barefoot on her balcony—leaning ever so slightly toward a man standing in her doorway. The headline screamed:
"HOTEL HEAT: Bella Santiago and Newbie Co-Star Caught in Late-Night Rendezvous!"
The article offered little more than vague speculation and a timeline built from fan accounts. But it was enough.
By noon, the story had been picked up by two gossip shows, dissected by radio DJs, and spun into wild conjecture on every entertainment forum in the country. Comment sections blazed with opinions.
"Another Bella scandal? Figures."
"They're cute together!"
"Publicity stunt for the show. Watch them deny it soon."
"He's using her. That guy was nobody last month."
Inside the Viva executive offices, PR alarms rang. A hastily arranged crisis meeting began while the show's director, writers, and marketing team debated whether to lean into the buzz—or stamp it out.
At the Santiago Residence, New Manila
Bella slammed the magazine onto the kitchen counter, where her mother sat drinking green tea and reading the Philippine Daily Inquirer.
"Elena," Bella said, "they're twisting it. It was nothing."
Elena calmly folded her paper. "Sweetheart, it's never nothing. Not when a camera is nearby."
"Do you think I'm reckless?"
"No. I think you're falling for him."
Bella didn't reply.
Her mother stood, adjusting her silk robe. "Falling's dangerous in this industry. When people stop watching the show and start watching you? That's when they decide how the story ends."
"I'm not a plot twist in someone's soap opera," Bella muttered.
"No," Elena said, voice softer now. "You're the star. So don't give them a reason to cut your finale short."
Across town – Enzo's Apartment, Cubao
Enzo stared at the magazine on the table. He hadn't even known paparazzi cared about actors like him. He still rode jeepneys to set when Gab couldn't lend him the car.
Gab chewed a fishball and pointed at the cover. "You officially made it. Next thing you know, they'll make a calendar of your face."
Enzo sighed. "I didn't ask for this."
"Well, this is what it looks like. Fame, man. You kiss the girl, you land on a magazine."
"I kissed her in character."
Gab raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"
Enzo didn't answer.
Back at Viva Studios – A Press Interview
Two days later, the studio scheduled a joint media sit-down with Bella and Enzo—part damage control, part PR bait. A hotel ballroom was booked. Journalists were invited. A stylist dressed them in coordinated pastel tones.
They sat side by side on a love seat, microphones pointed at their faces. Flashbulbs popped.
"So, let's get right to it," said the interviewer, a seasoned entertainment reporter. "What's going on between the two of you?"
Bella offered the kind of poised smile that had won hearts for years. "We're co-stars. We care about telling a beautiful story."
Enzo cleared his throat. "And we have great respect for each other."
"Respect?" the interviewer pressed. "What about those late-night photos? Fans want the truth. Are you dating?"
A beat of silence passed. The air shifted.
Bella glanced at Enzo.
He didn't look at her. He looked at the camera. "We're not dating. We're... figuring things out."
The room hummed with whispered notes.
After the interview, back in the hallway, Bella leaned against a wall.
"That was safe," she said flatly.
"It was the truth," Enzo replied.
She gave him a sharp look. "Was it?"
He hesitated. "I don't want to hurt your image, Bella. I'm not like you. I can disappear tomorrow. You can't afford that risk."
She stepped closer, her voice low. "You don't get to decide what I can afford."
And then, softer: "You don't get to decide how I feel."
Enzo searched her face. His jaw clenched slightly, unsure of what to say.
So he didn't.
Later that week – A New Scene, a New Layer
Scene 57: A quiet, wordless moment. Joaquin enters Celeste's bedroom after a funeral scene. She sits on the edge of her bed, mascara smudged. He kneels, takes her hand, says nothing.
The script called for silence. But when Enzo knelt in front of Bella and looked up at her, tears welled in her eyes—real ones. No glycerin.
The director didn't call "cut."
Bella reached forward, brushed a strand of hair from Enzo's forehead. Not scripted.
He leaned into the touch.
And in that moment, everything between them—truth and fiction—collapsed into one fragile, honest beat.
The director whispered to his assistant: "Frame that. That's our season poster."
Meanwhile – Kai's Corner
Kai watched the scene replayed in dailies, arms crossed, seething.
"They're writing her into a love team," she said to the assistant script supervisor. "And I'm just... wardrobe filler."
"Talk to the director," the assistant offered.
"No," Kai replied, eyes cold. "I'll talk to the press."
The Next Day – Trouble Hits
A headline exploded across Pinoy Pop News:
"Jealous Co-Star Speaks Out: Santiago-Rivera Romance 'All for Show'?"
The article didn't name Kai. But everyone knew. She accused "unnamed actors" of fabricating chemistry for fame. She claimed "roles were being rewritten unfairly." She posted a cryptic quote on her now-viral blog:
"Fiction can't replace talent. Let the audience decide who's worth watching."
That night, #BellaEnzo trended.
So did #TeamKai.
Viva's PR inbox flooded with both support and backlash. Rival networks reached out to Kai's manager. Bella's endorsement deal with a beauty brand was suddenly "under review."
That evening – Studio Rooftop
Bella sat under a sky blotted with Manila smog, alone with her thoughts. The city buzzed below. Fame was louder now—more consuming. Harder to breathe through.
Then she heard the rooftop door creak open.
Enzo stepped out, guitar slung over his back, face drawn with worry.
"I didn't know where else to go," he said.
She patted the concrete beside her. "I'm glad you came."
He sat. Played a soft chord. The wind picked up, cool and unfamiliar.
"I want to be honest with you, Bella," he said. "All this press. The noise. I can take it. What I can't take is pretending not to care."
Bella looked at him—really looked—and smiled faintly.
"You don't have to pretend. Not with me."
And for a while, they just sat in the quiet.
The fire was no longer just a spark.
It was a storm.
And storms don't ask for permission.