Zyren Kael Villafuer

Rowene was just a regular student at PNHS, preparing for the school’s 60th Foundation Anniversary. Stalls were rising outside the gates, colorful tarpaulins stretching across bamboo frames, and the familiar street near their barangay was temporarily transformed into a lively perya. Game booths lined the road. Music played louder each night. Three days before the celebration, Rowene focused on one thing—the Mardigra competition. She would represent her grade level at the school field that night. It was a big deal. Practice, coordination, pressure. She had no time for distractions. Every afternoon, she walked past the perya on her way home. It was still technically a road, just rented for the fiesta. She never expected anything from it—just noise, lights, and strangers. But someone noticed her. A group of teenage boys often sat near one of the booths, teasing each other while managing rides and game stalls. Among them was Zyren Kael Villafuer—tall for his age, sun-kissed skin, sharp jawline, and messy dark hair that fell into observant eyes. He didn’t go to school anymore. Instead, he worked at the perya with his friends, helping run rides and booths for income. Whenever Rowene passed by, his friends would nudge him, whispering and laughing. She never looked their way. She wasn’t interested—especially not in boys who had stopped studying. To her, that already said enough. Zyren, however, always watched quietly.
Not boldly. Not disrespectfully. Days passed like that. Silent glances. Rowene ignoring everything.
Until one evening. The perya lights were brighter than usual, glowing against the darkening sky. Music echoed through the street as children laughed near the rides. Rowene walked past again, holding a large cup of juice in one hand and a paper cup filled with fries in the other. But Zyren’s friends noticed first. He cleared his throat.
Hey...can I have some? He said it jokingly, like he always did whenever she passed by eating something.