Chapter 1
Characters:
Aiah – Arianne
Colet – Celine
Mikha – Maeve
Maloi – Mavis
Sheena – Sasha
Stacey – Skylar
Jho – Jamie
Gwen - Gale
---
Begin
The living room was dark, save for the bluish glow of the television screen. Celine sat alone on her couch, one arm resting on the back, the other loosely holding a glass of whiskey she hadn’t touched in minutes. The ice had long since melted, diluting whatever burn the alcohol was supposed to bring.
On the screen, a familiar face filled the frame.
Arianne.
She stood at the center of a grand stage, bathed in golden light, dressed in an elegant black and silver ensemble that shimmered as she moved. Her hair was perfectly styled, her makeup flawless, her eyes bright with confidence. The camera zoomed in on her face—sharp, striking, beautiful in a way that made Celine’s chest ache.
Celine let out a quiet chuckle, shaking her head.
"You really made it, huh?"
The crowd erupted as the host’s voice boomed through the speakers.
“And the winner for Best PPop Group is… LUMINA!”
The audience exploded into cheers, light sticks waving in synchronized patterns like a vast ocean of colors. Arianne and her groupmates rose from their seats, hugging each other tightly before making their way to the stage. The screen cut to glimpses of fans crying, screaming their names, chanting in unison.
Celine leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, eyes locked onto the screen.
She’s really big now. Not just in the Philippines. Not just in Asia. But worldwide.
Arianne stood before the microphone, her expression poised, confident. She looked so different from the girl Celine used to know—the one who once nervously practiced audition lines with her in their tiny dorm room, who laughed too hard at Celine’s stupid jokes, who promised under a blanket of stars, "No matter what happens, we’ll chase our dreams together."
Now, that girl was a star in the sky Celine could never reach.
"To everyone who believed in us, to our fans all over the world—thank you. This award is for you." Arianne’s voice echoed through the venue, strong and steady.
Celine let out a slow exhale, her grip tightening around the glass. There was no mention of the past. No trace of hesitation in Arianne’s eyes. If she was watching, did it even cross Arianne’s mind that Celine would be on the other side of the screen?
Probably not.
She tilted her head back, pressing her lips together to suppress the sudden tightness in her chest.
She should be happy. And she was.
Arianne deserved all of this—every ounce of success, every screaming fan, every flashing camera. She had worked for it, bled for it, sacrificed for it.
Celine just never thought that she would be one of those sacrifices.
The camera lingered on Arianne’s face as the applause roared on. Her lips curled into a small, knowing smile.
For a split second, Celine allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, Arianne was thinking of her too.
And then the moment passed.
Celine exhaled a quiet laugh, blinking away the sting behind her eyes.
"Tch. You idiot. You really made it."
Arianne deserved all of this—every ounce of success, every screaming fan, every flashing camera. She had worked for it, bled for it, sacrificed for it.
Celine just never thought that she would be one of those sacrifices.
The sound of shuffling footsteps pulled her out of her thoughts.
"Sinong pinapanood mo, apo?"
Celine flinched slightly, turning her head toward the voice. Standing by the doorway, wrapped in a thin shawl, was her grandmother.
"Lola, bakit gising pa po kayo?" Celine asked softly, placing her glass on the table and rising from the couch. She walked toward her grandmother, concern etched on her face. "Dapat nagpapahinga na po kayo."
But her grandmother wasn’t looking at her. She was staring at the TV screen, where Arianne’s face was still displayed. Her brows furrowed as if trying to piece something together.
“Bakit parang kamukha niya si Arianne, apo?" Her voice was gentle but curious. Then she turned to Celine with a knowing look. "Hindi ba’t siya ‘yan?”
Celine’s breath hitched for a moment, but she forced a small smile.
Her lola still remembered Arianne.
Well, sometimes she remembered things, sometimes she didn’t. The doctors said it was part of her condition. Some days, she would recognize Celine instantly, recalling every little detail about her childhood. Other days, she would look at her with confusion, asking who she was.
But now, she remembered Arianne.
Of course, she did.
Back then, before Arianne became a global star, she and Celine’s lola had a bond. Arianne was always welcome in their home, always treated like family.
Flashback - Years Ago
The scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm bread filled the small dining area. The late afternoon sun cast golden hues through the windows as laughter echoed in the air.
"Arianne, apo, kain ka pa!" Celine’s grandmother beamed as she placed another serving of adobo onto Arianne’s plate.
Arianne laughed, shaking her head. "Lola, sobrang dami na po nito! Baka di ko na magalaw!"
“Naku, kailangan mong kumain ng marami. Para lumakas ka pa lalo. Paano mo makakamit ang pangarap mo kung hindi ka kumakain ng maayos?”
Celine chuckled beside her. “Ayan ka na naman, Lola. Parang hindi ka sanay kay Arianne, mahina ‘yan kumain.”
“Hoy!” Arianne protested, nudging Celine’s shoulder. “Marunong kaya akong kumain. Mas matakaw ka lang!”
Their grandmother laughed, shaking her head as she watched them bicker playfully.
After dinner, they all moved to the living room, where their lola sat comfortably on her chair, knitting a small scarf. Arianne and Celine were sprawled out on the floor, their heads resting against the couch as they scrolled through their phones.
“Ano nga ulit ang pangarap niyong dalawa?” their grandmother asked suddenly, looking at them with soft, wrinkled eyes.
Arianne smiled, setting her phone aside. “Gusto ko pong maging idol, Lola. Yung tipong makakapag-perform sa malaking stage, maraming fans… Gusto kong gumawa ng musika na magpapasaya sa tao.”
Celine turned her head to look at Arianne, admiring the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her dreams.
Their grandmother nodded approvingly. “At ikaw naman, Celine?”
Celine grinned. “Gusto kong maging aktres, Lola. Yung tipong magiging bida sa malaking pelikula.”
“Ang lalaki ng pangarap ninyo,” their grandmother mused, smiling fondly. Then her expression softened. “Pero pangako niyo sa akin, kahit anong mangyari, hindi kayo mag-iiwanan, ha?”
Silence fell between them for a second.
Arianne turned to Celine, their eyes meeting.
“Hindi po, Lola,” Arianne whispered, her voice filled with certainty. “Hindi namin iiwan ang isa’t isa.”
Celine felt her heart tighten at the memory.
Back to Present
She turned to look at her grandmother, who was still staring at the TV, her expression unreadable.
Celine swallowed hard.
“Naaalala mo pa po pala siya, Lola,” she murmured.
Her grandmother gave a small smile, reaching out to gently squeeze Celine’s hand. “Oo naman. Mabait na bata ‘yan si Arianne… Hindi ko makakalimutan ang isa sa pinakamalaking pangako niya.”
Celine forced a small laugh. “Anong pangako, Lola?”
Her grandmother patted her hand gently. “Na hindi ka niya iiwan.”
A sharp sting shot through Celine’s chest.
She looked back at the darkened TV screen, where Arianne’s face had just been moments ago, now replaced by her own reflection.
She let out a quiet sigh.
"Matulog na po tayo, Lola," she whispered, her voice barely steady.
Her grandmother simply nodded, allowing Celine to lead her back to her room.
But as she closed the door and stood in the empty hallway, Celine couldn’t shake off the ache in her chest.
Because Arianne had made a promise.
And yet, she had still left.
Celine lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The city lights outside her window cast faint patterns on the walls, but her mind was elsewhere—stuck in the past, trapped in memories she had no control over.
She turned to her side, pulling the blanket over herself.
Maybe she shouldn't have watched. Maybe she should've turned the TV off the moment she saw Arianne's face. But how could she?
Arianne was everywhere.
On billboards, in commercials, in award shows, in every trending topic online. Lumina, the P-pop group she led, was at the peak of success—not just in the Philippines, but internationally.
And Celine… she was doing well, too.
A top rising actress, constantly booked for roles, winning awards, praised for her talent. She had made a name for herself, carved out her own path in the industry.
But tonight, none of that seemed to matter.
Tonight, she was just a girl lying in bed, trying to silence the ache in her chest.
Celine reached for her phone on the nightstand and, without thinking, opened Twitter.
#LUMINA_GoldenEra was trending.
Her thumb hovered over the search bar. She knew she shouldn’t, but the temptation was stronger than her self-control.
Arianne_Lumina.
She typed the words before she could stop herself.
Countless tweets flooded her screen.
📌 “Arianne is literally an ace. She can sing, dance, rap, act—what can’t she do???”
📌 “Arianne’s speech made me cry. She’s so grateful for her fans, and you can see how much she loves performing.”
📌 “THE way Arianne looked at the audience after the award… it’s like she was searching for someone.”
Celine frowned at that last tweet, hesitating for a moment before scrolling down. More pictures and videos. More interviews. A clip of Arianne laughing at something a host had said.
That laugh.
Celine felt something twist inside her.
She used to be the one to make Arianne laugh like that.
And now… she was just another person watching from a screen.
She exited Twitter with a sigh, tossing her phone onto the bed.
"Get a grip, Celine."
She closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe. She was doing fine. She had moved on. She was successful in her own right, landing roles, making a name for herself. She should be proud of herself.
Her phone vibrated on the nightstand.
She ignored it at first, but after the second buzz, she sighed and reached for it.
Jamie : "You up?"
Celine stared at the screen before replying.
Celine : "Yeah. What’s up?"
Jamie : "You watched, didn’t you?"
Celine’s fingers hesitated over the keyboard.
Celine : "Watched what?"
Jamie : "Don’t play dumb, Villamor. You know what I mean."
Celine closed her eyes.
Of course Jamie knew. She always knew.
Jamie : "Look, I know you’re trying to act all cool, but I also know you’re probably lying in bed overthinking everything right now."
Celine scoffed.
Celine : "I’m fine."
Jamie : "Liar. Also, why are you still awake? We have an early call time tomorrow, or did you forget you’re the lead actress in this film?"
Celine groaned, pressing her face into her pillow. Right. Shooting.
Celine : "I didn’t forget."
Jamie : "Then sleep, dummy. You don’t want the director nagging you for looking like a zombie on set."
Celine : "Okay, okay. I’ll sleep."
Jamie : "Good. And Celine?"
Celine : "What?"
Jamie : "She’s just another name now. Don’t let her mess with your head."
Celine didn’t reply. She wasn’t sure if she agreed with that.
Because no matter how much time had passed, no matter how much she had built for herself…
Arianne was never just another name.
She set her phone aside, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes.
Tomorrow, she had work.
Tomorrow, she had a life that didn’t include Arianne.
At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.
###
On Set
The bright studio lights illuminated the set, casting a golden glow over the grand living room designed for the film. Crew members bustled around, adjusting the cameras and checking the script. Celine sat in the makeup chair, eyes closed as a stylist fixed her hair.
“You’re unusually quiet today,” Jamie mused, leaning against the vanity table beside her.
Celine opened her eyes and met Jamie’s knowing gaze through the mirror. “Nag fo-focus lang ako” she replied, adjusting the cuffs of her costume.
Jamie raised an eyebrow. “Focused? Or distracted?”
Celine sighed. “Jamie.”
“Alright, alright. I won’t say her name. But just so you know, I saw you looking all sentimental last night.”
Celine shook her head, exasperated but grateful for Jamie’s presence. Before she could respond, the assistant director clapped their hands.
“Alright, everyone! Let’s get into position! First scene of the day!”
Celine stood, rolling her shoulders before walking onto the set. She took her place in front of the camera, her expression shifting instantly—her face no longer Celine Villamor, but the character she was meant to portray.
The director called out, “Alright, Celine, we’ll take this slow. Just feel the scene, no rush.”
Celine gave a small nod, but she didn’t need to be told twice. The moment the camera started rolling, she transformed.
The scene called for her to play a woman who had just found out about a betrayal. Her on-screen partner, Mark, delivered his lines with sincerity, but Celine didn’t even have to try—every movement, every flicker of emotion in her eyes, was raw and real.
Across from her, Mark adjusted his posture, eyes locked onto hers as the camera operator gave a signal. The moment the director called, “Action,” everything else faded.
Celine exhaled, her body instinctively shifting, her face falling into an expression of quiet devastation.
"You said you’d never lie to me,” she whispered, her voice raw, barely above a breath. The words trembled between them, laced with hurt. Her dark eyes, glistening with unshed tears, searched his—desperate, as if trying to find a reason, an explanation, anything that would make this hurt less.
Mark took a cautious step forward, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "I never wanted to hurt you," he said, his voice strained. His character was supposed to be remorseful, regret eating away at him, but in this moment, Celine wasn’t even thinking about the script anymore.
She let out a soft, bitter laugh—so delicate, yet filled with something unmistakably sharp. She shook her head, her lips barely parting before she spoke again.
“Then why does it feel like you just did?”
A single tear slipped down her cheek.
Mark reached for her—hesitant, desperate—but the moment his fingertips barely grazed her arm, she flinched, stepping back as if his touch burned. The pain in her expression deepened, something fractured, something irreparable.
Her breathing came uneven now, her chest rising and falling as though the weight of heartbreak itself had settled over her.
The silence stretched between them, thick, suffocating. The air felt different. The crew watching from behind the monitors barely breathed, utterly captivated by what was unfolding before them.
Mark swallowed hard, visibly affected by the intensity in her gaze. He looked like he wanted to say more, to fix this—to fix her—but he knew the script. He knew what was next.
Celine inhaled sharply, her shoulders stiff as if bracing herself for a storm only she could feel. Then, with a quiet voice, almost fragile yet undeniably firm, she said—
“I trusted you.”
Her voice didn’t waver this time. It wasn’t a plea, nor was it an accusation. It was the truth, spoken so painfully, so vulnerably, that the words hung in the air long after she had said them.
She turned away, blinking rapidly as if fighting to keep her emotions at bay, and in that fleeting moment, the weight of the past—her past—seeped through her character’s performance.
The thought hit her like a tidal wave, but she refused to let it show.
Her hands clenched at her sides before she took a slow, deliberate breath, regaining control. And just like that, she buried the pain once more.
Then—
“Cut!”
The word echoed through the set, snapping her back to reality.
A heavy silence followed before an eruption of praise.
"That was incredible!" someone whispered in awe.
The director shot up from his chair, his face a mixture of disbelief and amazement. "That was perfect ! One take! Celine, that was phenomenal!"
Crew members murmured their approval, the energy on set buzzing with admiration. Even Mark, who was still catching his breath, turned to her with wide eyes. "Damn," he muttered. "You’re insane. I actually felt that."
Celine blinked, her heartbeat still racing in her chest. She forced a smile, shaking off the remnants of the scene.
Jamie, standing at the edge of the set, crossed her arms and smirked. "Leave some talent for the rest of us, Villamor."
Celine chuckled, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. As she walked off the set, she reached for a tissue, dabbing at the tear that had fallen earlier.
She should be proud.
She should be happy .
But as she glanced at the monitor and saw the replay of her own broken expression, she realized something.
She hadn’t been acting.
Not entirely.
Because deep down, the pain in her voice—the heartbreak in her eyes—was real.
No matter how much time passed, no matter how much success she achieved…
Arianne’s ghost still lingered.
And that terrified her.