Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Old NaNoWriMo effort : Elbi Nights

This story actually gave birth to the Elbi Life seiries that I am writing in T.O.P. I finished the first one Natasha But I still need to fix it's P.O.V. Still in the spirit of NaNoWriMo, I give you my unfinished first effort. ^_^ I will try to finish this SOMEDAY. But, I don't want to right now. ^_^ Maybe when I have a new Ne Sarang I will. Because by then, the story plot would have reached a real ending.Don't mind the typos and bad grammar. The rule was to not edit it but just keep typing 50,000 words to make a novel.
Elbi Nights - an unfinished novel by NRSimon
October 29th, 2009
Use diff p.o.v. of several females.

nanowrimo website

See screenshots of word count here

Disclaimer: This used to be a nanorwimo entry but now I have decided to just finish it as it is. I want to write about what we did in college in a looser way. Oh well. Ain't never getting published but I want to finish it. ^^


I think I should've just become a loner. Having friends just makes my life more complicated. I have seen this coffee shop situation before. But it included more people. And my friends were not ranting about their love lives. They were making me sick with all the hand-holding and their latest trip together in some romantic get-away.  It was a dream, but it looked so real that I hoped that it was possible for that to happen. A year ago, we were not grieving our beloveds, we were not alone, and we traveled in pairs even. As I sip my Cafe Americano, I wonder. When did the end start?

My heart break started years ago when I decided that being celibate was the best way to be free of the restrictions that sex brought me. Sex had been the upper that I had used to get over being dumped by a man for a man. I had drank, danced and fucked my way back to trying to feel more beautiful and loved but all that it boiled down to was that I was replaced with a penis. So I decided to stay as far away from one as much as it was possible. I was doing so great. Until that night.

I was dancing up against a friend who was never going to be someone I would be sexually attracted to. I felt safe to dance with abandon with him around. I was pretty sure people around us were confused as to why I was dancing with him. But I didn't care. I looked at the handsome guys who shot a look of wonder and even disgust. I danced some more when they looked as if they thought that the guy I was dancing to seem too lucky to be dancing with me. I was flirting with my eyes with another guy when someone caught my attention. He was looking at me while in mid-sip. He was holding his beer near his mouth as if he was about to take a swag but he wasn't. The beer was a cover. He was staring at me, at us, as if he was reprimanding me for dancing the way that I was. I felt an unfamiliar chill down my spine then a flush of heat on my face. I hadn't blushed in years! I don't even remember the last time I was embarrassed in front of anyone. I have been partying with no restrictions since I became a sophomore. And here was this stranger judging me while he was enjoying the show! I tried to look away and keep on dancing. But I found out that it was harder to do so with someone boring a hole at your back.
I had forgotten that he was looking when my friend Hellene tapped me on the shoulder. Her boy toy Art was standing beside her with his usually naughty grin. I knew that something was up. He was looking at someone behind me so I turned around. There was no one there. When I faced them again, the Beer guy had his face inches away from mine as if he was sniffing me. I took a step back but didn’t stop dancing. I had my guard up but that didn’t mean that I had to stop having fun in the process.
“This is Art’s fraternity brother, Eros.” was Hellene’s simple introduction. I smirked a bit, nodded then waved. He motioned to shake my hand but I kept waving. Then I went back to dancing. I knew what was happening. My friends have been on my case about getting a new boyfriend since they all got coupled up. Hellene was with Art, Queenie with Max, Valene with Jester, Cy with James, and Ara with Frank. Well, she was with Frank until two nights ago. They broke up over something that I am sure women would agree is a deal breaker. Frank had a cigarette dick but had cockiness that befits a hung black man. They wanted me to be as happy as they are, well most of them at the very least. I have always thought that women who needed to be with men or have significant other were just too afraid to roll on their own. I have always loved my independence. My only official boyfriend was a gay guy. We dated for a year and a few days. I was always very clear with him that if he ever fell in love with someone then all he had to do was tell me about it. And by someone I meant a guy. Still it took a lot out of me when it finally happened. He cheated on me before he told me. It was even the other guy who called me to tell me to not insist on trying to get back together with Luis. But the funny thing was that Darren and I ended up being friends. Luis was not really the hitching into a relationship type. And Darren even had to hire someone to follow Luis around. I was just more than happy to be Darren’s confidant. He did after all save me from being the one to have to take that kind of shit.
I haven’t been a saint since that break-up. I counted men as much as any playboy counted women, like notched on my bedpost. But it felt like I was just wasting my time so I just danced, made out then kicked men out of my path when it was time to go home from partying all night. I became the classic tease. I had enough of a reputation as a woman who puts out and brings home to our apartment we candidly called the Love shack that men thought that buying us a couple of drinks could get them laid. They were oh so wrong.
Eros sat and watched me like I was putting up a show just for him. I heard Hellene grill him like he was auditioning for a bit as my boyfriend. I had settled next to him because Art maneuvered it that way. Eros had not talked the whole time he was sitting down. He smiled, smoked, drank then stared some more. I decided that it would be fun to get this one to talk so I abandoned my dance partners and I focused on him. He didn’t want to stand up to dance. He held on his beer bottle and cigarette as if they were his shield and sword. I put out the cigarette and took the bottle from his hand. I turned my back on him and did the one thing that men have no power against.
I gave him a lap dance.


I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t see where I was walking. I felt so intoxicated that I had to stare at a pipe on the road and wonder whether I would be able to cross it or not. Art kept asking me what happened last night. He had to carry Hellene to the bathroom. I was left in the living room with Samantha. I was waiting to be excused. I was waiting for Art to come down so I can say goodbye. But the douche fell asleep. He had to stay with Hellene because she had to throw up every five minutes. I blame women who try to tell a bartender they won’t pass out after ten full glasses of cocktails. She vomited on the floor of the bar, on the grassy area outside the bar area, out the window when we were in the car, and in the bathroom when we all got to their apartment, Sam and Queenie’s apartment to be more exact.
They had set up all the futons in the living rooms. Three futons. Queenie slept in the middle, Hellene’s would sleep in the one near the door while Sam was already in her futon.
She was not as odd as I thought. She was odder. She was not intoxicated. I know that, at least not by alcohol. I didn’t see anyone of them take anything aside from cigarettes. I sighed because I didn’t want to be with female junkies. I wanted to hit Art on the back of his head. If he didn’t ask me to stay I wouldn’t be sitting across Samantha, who has changed into short shorts and a tank top. I tried not to talk to her but she was being a gracious host.
Then she said something that I couldn’t possibly let slide.
“You’re gay, aren’t you?”
I would later find out that if I was, I wasn’t really safe either.
Like I said, this girl was odd.
And I am in love with her.


I am a romantic. I have always known that I want to have a family when I am settled in my own skin. I had grown up in a broken one you see, so I had always dreamt of having a husband by my side while raising my children. I have always thought that if I meet him I would not let him go. Max was this guy for me. He was the one.
Having a perfect relationship isn’t something that I had hoped to have. But I had work very hard to be the kind of girlfriend that my significant other could not do without. I have always been supportive, loving and often too involved in their lives that I find myself compromising way too often. My friends sometimes think that I am a martyr. But I do them for very simple and selfish reasons. If the person I am with is going places, I don’t have to give up on my ambitions either.
I blame Cy for getting me in this situation. She introduced me to Hellene. Samantha and I had been roommates with Valene for the longest time when we met her. The parties that we had in our apartment, the long parade of men that came and went to party with us led me to Max.
I knew that I liked him before he liked me. There were so many obstacles that littered the path to our so called union. I blame Samantha and her condom gift. It led to the best and worst night of my life. I had finally found the guy that I want to spend the rest of my life with. But he was not as perfect or princely as I had hoped he would be. I realized in the time that I had been with him that princes are trained not born.
I haven’t told my friends that he had proposed. I am thinking that I need to graduate before he gives me a ring. It’s not like there is a ring to give just yet. He is still starting out in his new job. That did not stop us from planning for our future though. I had been playing with baby names while he planned how to put his life together from bum to responsible son. And I love him more and more for it. In my opinion, he is not the same man that I had fallen in love with, he’s better.
I can see us living in the Philippines together or maybe working in Saudi with my mom and my brother. It would be harder for him to adjust to another country but it would be easier for me to be a good daughter if I am there. And he understands that now. Because he can feel the amazing feeling of being able to be someone his mother can depend on. I can honestly say that I am in cloud nine. Things couldn’t get any better than being engaged to a man who I know is true to me.
I had been worried about Samantha for a while. She went into a downward spiral while I was in my honeymoon period. Then when my relationship with Max became more settled and almost too co-dependent, she had started her celibacy year. I am glad that she hooked up with Eros. He seemed exactly her type, the rugged macho with a soft spot for her.
The only thing that was out of whack was that they didn’t seem to realize that I was not really asleep when they first hooked up…and the four ones after that first one.
I was more than glad to move when they stopped. My limbs were tensed to their limit trying not to move. I know Samantha to dislike good-looking men. It is connected to her past insecurity complex. She doesn’t understand that women have different kinds of beauty. I knew that if I didn’t step in, Eros would be history in less than twenty-four hours.
I typed something on my mobile phone and made her read it, “He’s gorgeous. I noticed just now.” Samantha read and it and rolled her eyes. Eros was looking over her shoulder when she read it.
There was something that he said that took me by surprise; something I know Samantha would have dropped kicked just any guy if they called her that. He called her “Love.”
I knew at that moment that her romantic hiatus was over. Eros would make sure of that. At last, the cynic has met her match.


I don’t have a boyfriend. My friends keep insisting that Art is my boyfriend. I can’t call him that because to call him that would mean that I am letting him into some specific group of rights that are reserved to my boyfriend. And he hasn’t qualified for that yet. I have been dating ever since I had been in college. I know for a fact when a guy is worth my time.
Let’s just say that I love Art. But not enough to let him significantly connect my lifeline to. He is still waiting for things to happen in his life. And I want to be with someone who can take care of me and not the other way around.
I am always taking care of other people. Often it is so much that I sacrifice my own needs. And I always come out of it too stressed out that I am drained of my chance to be happy. They seem to take a part of me every time they are done asking me to love them. And that needs to stop. Those guys had wanted to be my boyfriend and acted as if I was someone who would always be there for their convenience. It had to stop. I had promised myself that this time around, the guy I would call my boyfriend would take care of me and not me him.
I do love taking care of the people that I love. I sometimes think that it’s my fault that they end up abusing my kindness. But loving and giving to someone who is dear to me comes naturally to me. I am not perfect, I know for a fact that I am a brat. People overlook that brats can be very caring too. I, for one, am a very lovable brat. I know my place when it comes to a relationship. The only problem is that sometimes the guy that I am with thinks that I am too independent for them. They either leave me because they can’t handle it or because they want to give skirt chasing another try.
I admit that my situation sounds a bit cliché. I am an independent woman who wants to be in love with a real man. Is that so impossible? I don’t think so.
I am not going to make Art my official boyfriend unless he steps up to the plate and hits a homerun. I know he has the potential otherwise I would not be wasting my time travelling back and forth from the city to my old alma mater’s province. The four hours that it takes for me to get there is a sacrifice I am willing to make to have him in my arms. I know he recognizes that I need a guy with a plan, a definite plan with his life. I won’t feed the man I would have with me for the rest of my life. I won’t put up with that. I hope he stops waiting for things to happen and actually does something about it.
Until then, I don’t have a boyfriend.


Jester is my friend. He is a guy but that doesn’t make him my boyfriend. Not that I am saying that I don’t want him to be my boyfriend. It’s just that he isn’t, so there. Now you know. Samantha keeps insisting that we are a couple just because I might have a huge fan girl love for him and he well, he hangs around me a lot because we move in the same circles. We are in the same organization, we are in the same classes and we have common friends. I can’t blame him for loving…my conversation skills.
I just wish he would look at me in a different light. You know, that kind of light, or lack of light if you know what I mean.
But then there’s Nick. I like his cerebral sexiness. What I do with them would spell out the rest of my love life. But sometimes I think that I need to choose which one to have a crush on but end up more confused. Sure they both spend time with me but am I sure that by the end of the day, just before they go to sleep at least one of them thinks of me?

There is no hope for me I know. But I still lay awake thinking, which one I should choose, in case both of them come knocking on my virginal door. Yes, door is a euphemism.


I don’t want to go back to the Ysack that was in Elbi that time. I couldn’t imagine that I had to burn so much of my old self to find a new me that turned out to be just a glossier, older and more cowardly version of the old me.
I had escaped the straightjacket. I am not about to hit my head on the walls anytime soon.
But sometimes reality makes it difficult to stay true to yourself.
I miss Lights of Havana [1]just as much as Samantha misses Adios[2].


I left my heart there. I am not willing to get it back. Not if I have to face all the ghosts that I littered my days there. I have lost the old me, the one who smiled openly, who flirted often and wrapped men around my fingertips.
I don’t know. I don’t know if I can walk down Grove and not see the old Elbi, the old me, the happy Cath. I knew what I wanted, who I wanted to be with, and where we were headed.
But now I don’t.

[1] Lights of Havana is a drink from Jungle Java, a bar in LB Square, the local watering hole of UPLB students.
[2] Adios Motherfucker or Adios is a cocktail served in Loata Loka, a bar in LB Square

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