Meanwhile, in Davao, Yuan was learning that peace didn't always come with stillness. His life had become a balancing act—juggling final year requirements, leading initiatives for his engineering organization, and trying to prove, to himself more than anyone, that he was no longer the boy he used to be.
Exams. Project proposals. Site visits. Stakeholder meetings. His planner was crammed with colored tabs and deadlines, yet despite the fullness of his schedule, a quiet restlessness lingered underneath it all. Like something was missing—something loud.
Then came Camille.
He first met her during an emergency meeting for an inter-campus collaboration. She was late, breathless, and holding an iced coffee that sloshed over her notes as she dropped them onto the table. Without missing a beat, she pointed at the projector screen and said, "That layout's ugly. Who approved this?"
Everyone turned. Yuan raised an eyebrow. "I did."
Camille looked him in the eye and replied, "Then I guess we're fighting."
That was her.
Unfiltered, unafraid, and impossible to ignore.
She wasn't the kind of person who entered quietly. Camille took up space—not for attention, but because she believed in what she was doing. She had this spark that made people listen, even when she was just talking about logistics or coffee ratios. Yuan found her infuriating… and fascinating.
Over time, she became a fixture in his days. They sat at opposite ends of meetings, throwing sarcastic comments back and forth. They disagreed on budget splits, marketing materials, even the order of program segments. And yet, every time they argued, Yuan found himself more engaged, more… present.
She challenged him. Not cruelly. Not to belittle. But because she genuinely believed he could do better.
"You overthink too much," she told him once, after he triple-checked a proposal draft. "Just send it. It's not brain surgery."
"And you underthink," he shot back. "That's why you spelled the venue wrong on the last memo."
"Touché," she said, grinning.
She was chaos in motion—passionate, contradictory, and quick to laugh. Where Cean had once steadied his storms, Camille ignited them. And somehow, that made Yuan feel more awake than he'd been in months.
Neo noticed first.
"You and Camille," he said, watching them banter during a working lunch, "either you'll kill each other or end up married."
Yuan scoffed. "She's just… loud."
Neo grinned. "So are fire alarms. Still doesn't mean you ignore them."
Yuan rolled his eyes. "It's not like that."
But later that night, when Camille texted:
"You were right about the venue. Don't let it get to your head."
Yuan reread the message twice, then smiled.
He waited five full minutes before replying, just to annoy her.
"Too late. My ego already has its own zip code."
"Ugh. I'm gonna block you."
He chuckled, locking his phone.
It wasn't like before. But it wasn't nothing.
It was new. Complicated. Loud.
And maybe, maybe that was exactly what he needed.
'_'