CHIARA POV
Stepping into my office, my mind focused on the tasks at hand, I wasted no time and swiftly navigated through the familiar maze of cubicles, making a beeline towards my neatly organized desk. The constant hum of coworkers filled the air, creating a backdrop of bustling productivity. But amidst the background noise, a sudden interruption broke through – the ringing of my phone. The familiar sound of my phone ringing filled the air, as I dial my mom's number.
"Hello?" My mother's cheerful voice greeted me on the other end.

The urgency in my tone was evident as I blurted out, "Why would I get married? I'm not ready for that yet!"
A soft chuckle escaped my mother's lips at my outburst. "Oh Ara, don't take it so seriously. I was just teasing you," she reassured me. Was she really kidding or was she just trying to cover it up?
A mix of confusion and annoyance washed over me as I asked, "Are you really joking? Just to remind you mom that marriage is not a joke."
With a gentle reminder, my mother brought up the pact we had made long ago, a seemingly innocent agreement that now seemed slightly absurd. "We made a pact, remember? If you're not married by the age of 25, I'll find someone for you." The memory of that hastily made pact flooded my mind, and I couldn't help but mentally scold myself for agreeing to such a binding arrangement. Perhaps it was my naive desire to always be surrounded by the love and company of my two best friends that led me to make such a hasty decision.
Yet, despite the weight of the pact, I mustered the courage to remind her gently, "I remember, but Mom, I still have four whole years ahead of me." The reassurance in my voice was palpable, a beacon of hope illuminating the uncertainty that tangled within. Time was on my side, and I intended to make the most of it.
Undeterred by my response, my mother persisted, her well-meaning concern evident in her next suggestion. "But you don't have a boyfriend, do you? I can help you find someone." A sigh escaped my lips as exasperation washed over me.

The constant pressure to have my life meticulously planned out, including finding the perfect partner, became overwhelming. With a tinge of frustration, I pleaded with her, "Mom, please don't worry about me. I'm still young, and marriage can wait. I want to experience having a boyfriend first, to explore the joys and challenges of relationships before taking such a lifelong commitment."
A subtle undertone of sadness colored my mother's voice, manifesting as a gentle sigh that carried the weight of unspoken desires. "I'm sorry if I'm pushing you, Ara. It's just that I've been longing for grandchildren, you know." The burden of her unfulfilled hopes weighed heavily upon me, stirring a pang of guilt within my chest. Despite my own reservations about marriage, I couldn't help but empathize with the quiet yearning that resided in her voice.
Seeking some form of solace, I decided to bring up my older brother, hoping that his circumstances would alleviate some of the pressure that had been placed on my shoulders. "What about Kuya? He's older than me, right?" A flicker of resignation infiltrated my mother's response, her voice tinged with a mix of weariness and understanding. "You know he hasn't quite moved on from his last relationship. Plus, he's swamped with work." The realization that the responsibility of fulfilling our parents' wishes fell primarily upon me settled uneasily within me, a weight that threatened to overshadow my own desires.
Sensing the mounting pressure and knowing that I needed to regain my focus on the tasks at hand, I gently interjected, "Alright, Mom, I have to get to work now. I'll talk to you later." The unspoken understanding between us silently agreed to revisit this conversation at a later, more opportune time.

Before ending the call, my mother's voice held a tinge of concern, a reminder of the distance that separated us physically. "Okay, love you and take care, Ara. Remember that we're not there with your dad and brother." In that moment, her care and worry resonated deeply within me, reminding me of the unconditional love that bound us despite the physical distance. "Love you too, Mom," I replied, my voice carrying a mixture of affection and determination, before finally disconnecting the call.
With the conversation lingering in the back of my mind, I redirected my attention towards the demands of my work. Embracing the familiar routine, I delved headfirst into the tasks at hand, channeling my energy and passion into my responsibilities. The comfort of my desk, surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of productivity, became a sanctuary where I could momentarily escape the pressures of familial expectations.
As I immersed myself in the world of design, the outside noise and expectations melted away, leaving only the creative process and my passion guiding me forward. Each sketch and stroke of the brush became a connection to my inner self, a channel through which I could express my unique perspective on beauty and aesthetics.
Within the confines of my design studio, surrounded by color palettes, fabric samples, and the hum of creativity, I found solace. The rhythmic sound of my pencil moving across the sketchbook and the gentle swish of fabric being draped over a mannequin served as an enchanting symphony, soothing my spirit and igniting my imagination.
Bound by the belief that my designs were an extension of my identity, I navigated through the day with unwavering determination and a commitment to breathe life into each creation. With every stitch, every pattern, and every choice of material, I sought to evoke emotion and captivate the senses.
In the delicate dance between form and function, I discovered a sense of purpose and fulfillment that transcended the mere act of creation. Each completed piece was not just a work of art, but also a testament to my ability to bring dreams to life, to transform ideas into tangible realities that stirred the hearts of others.
As the hours passed in a whirlwind of sketches, fittings, and consultations, I found reassurance in the knowledge that amidst the unpredictable currents of the design world, my studio remained a sanctuary where I could find solace, inspiration, and a semblance of control. In this space, I had the power to craft narratives, to challenge conventions, and to breathe life into the visions that danced within my mind.
And with each completed collection or bespoke creation, I knew that I had made my mark, leaving behind a legacy of artistry and innovation. Within the realm of design, I found not just a profession, but a calling - a path that allowed me to shape the world around me and leave a lasting impact on those who encountered my work.
As the sun began to set and the day drew to a close, I reflected upon the journey I had undertaken within the walls of my studio. And despite the uncertainties that awaited beyond its doors, I knew deep within me that my passion for design would guide me forward, lighting the way towards new possibilities, endless inspiration, and a lifetime of creating beauty.
LUNCH TIME
Knock! Knock! Knock!
As I sat in my office, diligently working on designing a stunning dress, my concentration was interrupted by a gentle knock on the door. "Come in!" I warmly invited, curious to see who it was. To my pleasant surprise, it was Sarah, my loyal secretary, holding a stack of files that I had been eagerly awaiting.
"Ma'am, it's lunchtime, and I've brought the files you need," she said kindly before placing them on my desk and swiftly leaving the room.
Glancing at the time, I realized that indeed it was lunchtime already. Quickly tidying up my work area, I decided to step out of my boutique and enjoy a meal at a nearby restaurant. As I entered the establishment, a friendly waiter greeted me with a warm smile, to which I responded in kind.
I asked, "Reservation for Chiara Abella?" since I had made arrangements earlier. The helpful staff member acknowledged my reservation and guided me to my table, pulling out a chair for me to sit on. I expressed my gratitude, and they gracefully bowed before departing to attend to other customers.
Looking up from my seat, my eyes widened in surprise as I spotted Mr. Snobby across the room. He was accompanied by a woman, her back is facing me preventing me from seeing her fully. In that moment, an unwelcome pang of jealousy surged within me. Irrationally, I couldn't help but compare myself to her and convince myself that I must be more beautiful than she is. Why else would he choose to spend time with her?
Observing their animated conversation, I couldn't help but notice how radiant Mr. Snobby appeared when he laughed. It infuriated me to think that he could share such joy with anyone other than myself. Suddenly, our gazes met, and he seemed equally surprised to see me there. The mysterious woman alongside him turned her head to face me, revealing her own undeniable beauty. Although momentarily taken aback, I refused to let doubt cloud my confidence. With a friendly smile, I waved at them, attempting to maintain a positive demeanor.
Surprisingly, the woman reciprocated my smile, appearing genuinely friendly. However, Mr. Snobby responded to my cheerful gesture with a disapproving frown. Frustrated, I watched as the woman directed her attention back to him, seemingly saying something. He shook his head slightly, and they resumed their conversation. Typical of snobbish individuals, I thought to myself with a dismissive sigh.
As hunger gnawed at my stomach, I eagerly awaited the arrival of my food. Thankfully, my patience was rewarded as a friendly server placed a steaming plate in front of me. "Thank you," I graciously acknowledged, appreciating their attentive service. With a polite bow, they left me to enjoy my meal in peace. The aroma wafting from the plate only intensified my anticipation, and I couldn't wait to dig in.
As I took each bite, my senses delighted in the exquisite flavors that graced my palate. The intricate blend of spices and the variety of textures brought forth a deep sense of satisfaction that can only be experienced through the pleasure of a truly delicious meal. With each mouthful, I savored the intricate dance of flavors that enveloped my taste buds, relishing in the moment.
But as I reached the end of my delightful feast, my attention shifted towards the need to freshen up. Feeling a pang of awareness, I gracefully excused myself from the table, knowing that it was time to seek solace in the restroom. Making my way towards the powder room, I eagerly anticipated the opportunity to rejuvenate myself before continuing with the evening's events.
However, just as I stepped into the restroom, an unexpected encounter jolted me out of my reverie. A sudden collision sent me stumbling slightly, causing me to turn towards the source of the disturbance. It was none other than the woman who had been dining with Mr. Snobby, standing before me. In an effort to maintain composure, I greeted her with a casual "Hey," accompanied by a warm smile, carefully concealing any trace of frustration or annoyance that may have lingered within me.
I couldn't help but notice the spark of curiosity in her eyes as she posed a question that caught me off guard, "Do you know Kuya Maximo?" Her persistent smile indicated that she expected me to be acquainted with this individual she referred to as Maximo. Confusion washed over me as I responded with bewilderment, "Kuya Maximo?" It became apparent from her reaction that this was indeed Mr. Snobby's actual name.
She furrowed her brows, momentarily taken aback by my apparent lack of knowledge. Seeking to refresh my memory, she clarified, "Yeah, the man with me." Inwardly, I couldn't help but find her assumption rather presumptuous. Collecting my thoughts, I responded honestly, "Well, actually, I don't know him," coming to the realization that there was no use in pretending otherwise. An awkward pause filled the air, as if she expected more from me, but unfortunately, I had nothing else to offer.
Confusion clouded her face as she recalled my earlier interaction with Mr. Snobby. "I thought you knew him because you waved at him," she confessed, searching for clarification. Internally sighing, I felt a tinge of frustration as it seemed she failed to grasp my simple gestures of politeness. Shouldn't it have been obvious? In an attempt to put an end to the conversation, I mustered a friendly smile and replied, "Just saw him earlier." Hoping to create a swift exit, I hurriedly excused myself, eager to escape her incessant chatter. With a quick departure, I left the powder room behind and sought refuge in the familiarity of my surroundings.
As my gaze wandered, I couldn't help but notice Mr. Snobby, or rather Maximo, deeply engrossed in his meal, seemingly oblivious to my presence. Out of consideration for his uninterrupted enjoyment, I continued on my way, leaving the restaurant and its peculiar encounters in my wake.
Returning to the comforting embrace of my boutique, I resumed my work with renewed determination. The unexpected encounter in the restaurant served as a gentle reminder to stay focused on the things that truly mattered. With a renewed sense of purpose, I directed my attention towards designing exquisite dresses, allowing the distractions of the outside world to fade away.