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Chapter 4 - Chapter 4 — The Delulu Dream

Diary Entry #0004

Date: July 05, 2023

I need to focus in study starting today, to get that Law degree.

— Ryan H

**✶✶✶[ Room | midnight]✶✶*

Hrrrk... snrk... ZzZzZ...

That night, I had a dream.

It was good.

And terrible.

At the same time.

Good—because me and Rachel were kissing like top-tier telenovela leads.

Slow motion. Dramatic angle. Background music sponsored by heartbreak and destiny.

But then... it turned into horror.

I opened my eyes.

Oh no.

Rachel was gone.

Standing in her place was...

A buff water buffalo.

Wearing eyeliner.

And a faint mustache.

"D-daddy… one more kiss~"

> I screamed internally.

Then externally.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL—"

**✶✶✶[ After dream ]✶✶*

Hrrrk… snrk… ZzZzZ…

Suddenly—

"AHHHH!!! HAHHH!!"

I shot up, gasping for air.

Heart racing. Eyes wide.

> "Shit... what a creepy dream."

I needed a sleep....(fade black)

**✶✶✶[ Morning ]✶✶*

Snrk... hrrkk...

Morning.

After surviving my buffalo-infested dream and reading ten pages of self-hate disguised as a textbook, I freshened up using cologne that smelled like regret and menthol, grabbed my bag, and sprinted out the door like the main character of a coming-of-age failure....(Transition to)

San Ignacio College of Law

Morning..

I arrived at school smiling like I got a scholarship from the University of Delusion.

> Me (thinking):

"This is it. My redemption arc begins… with a touch of insanity."

I entered like I was in a shampoo commercial.

Wind? Check.

Delulu? Maxed out.

> Me (to a guy):

"Good morning, Proof!"

> Random Guy (blinking):

"Uhh… my name's Paolo."

> Me (nodding seriously):

"Oh. Right. I meant your earrings."

(pause)

"Wait. Where is your hair?!"

> Paolo:

"You okay, bro?"

> Me (grinning):

"Nope. But I showed up anyway."

---

Flashback: Me as a Kid

Even as a kid, I was built different.

While the other kids ate crayons by accident…

I ate them on purpose.

To assert dominance.

Lost a jack-en-poy game once.

Challenged my classmate to a spelling bee.

We both cried.

> Me (thinking):

"I may be small… but my delulu is XXL." (slowly...fade..)

**✶✶✶[ My teacher ]✶✶*

[Second floor, Section Alpha]

I took my seat at the back and watched as our teacher walked in like a K-drama second lead.

Glasses? Check.

Rolled sleeves? Danger.

Aura? Rachel-level.

> Me (blushing):

"Why does this man give off forbidden romance energy?!"

> Sir Teacher (writing on board):

"Open your books to page 42."

> Me (internally panicking):

"Yes, daddy—WAIT. NO. I mean sir. TEACHER. EDUCATOR."

My classmates looked at me like I just confessed to a crime.

Some chuckled under their breath—small, confused laughs—like they weren't sure if they should be concerned or entertained.

then.

Brain? Lagging like a cheap charger.

I looked down at my notebook. I had written only one line:

> He has veins.

**✶✶✶[ after class ]✶✶*

Bell rang. Class dismissed.

> Me (stretching):

"Finally. Time to go home and cry horizontally."

[San Ignacio, Street, Coastal Road]

As I walked past traffic, I tried guessing car brands like a broke Top Gear host.

> Me:

"Honda. Mitsubishi. Is that a Tesla?—Nope. Jeepney with a spoiler and a rosary."

As I walked past the siopao vendor, I caught her staring at me.

She was probably thinking, "Wow… what a handsome and intelligent young man."

(But let's be real—she was probably just wondering if I was okay… or slowly losing my mind.)

Then I smelled it.

Snff… snnfffffff…

Steam. Warm bread. Childhood.

Siopao.

I stopped.

> Me (soft):

"…Mama."

***

** [Flashback: 6 Years Ago — Our Kitchen]***

> Mama (smiling):

"Anak, when life gets hard… eat a siopao. It's soft. Warm. Like a hug."

> Me (tiny):

"But we don't have ulam."

> Mama:

"Then siopao is the ulam."

> Me:

"Siopao supremacy."

***

[Present Time]

> Me (staring at siopao):

"Mama… your steamed hugs still haunt me."

I reached into my pocket.

Empty.

I walked away siopao-less.

But emotionally full.

**✶✶✶[ My Apartment]✶✶*

[Evening]

Twelve thousand steps later, I was home.

> Me (sniffing the air):

"Yup. Smells like wet dog, failed dreams, and someone else's regret."

I collapsed on the floor dramatically like a telenovela lead discovering betrayal.

> Me (to ceiling):

"This is home. It stinks. I love it."

I closed my eyes.

...then flinched.

A sound—BEEP… BEEP…

Like something from a hospital room.

> Me (murmuring):

"Tch... not this dream again."

[Day 4 continue]

***

[Thank you for reading, God bless]

-"Hope is free. So I bought 17 kilos of it."

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