On the edge of Fuente Osmeña Circle in Cebu City stands Marco, an artist who draws portraits for passers-by. The air was dusty, the surroundings were noisy, but he was used to that life. As he wiped the paint off his hand, he noticed an expensive black SUV slow down right in front of him. Two other vehicles followed, obviously a convoy of influencers.

The tinted window opened and there he stopped. “… “Sophia?” she whispered softly. He can’t go wrong. The woman inside—dressed in an elegant dress, with jewelry that was visibly worth millions, and with four bodyguards around—was the young man he had secretly loved in Lapu-Lapu City before they separated.

A bodyguard was stabbed. “Ma’am, do you know that?” Sophia didn’t answer right away. He looked at Mark, obviously surprised as well. “Mark?” he called incredulously. The man immediately advised her, “Ma’am, stay inside. It’s dangerous here.”

Sophia went downstairs. “Relax, I know him.” Marco couldn’t move. The moments when they chased rice paddies came back to him, and the promise that he would come back when their dreams came true—even if life didn’t go that way.

Sophia stared at the paintings she had lined up. There’s a view of the SRP seaside, children playing in the Colon, and a woman in a white dress with her back to her back. “Is that me?” he asked with a smile. Marco was very impressed. “I don’t know what you look like now… So I remember that before.”

Before they could have much conversation, Marco noticed a black van stopped on the other side of the road. Three men in black came down and looked in their direction. The guards were immediately alerted. “Ma’am, that’s the same van that followed us earlier,” one whispered to Sophia. A man approached who looked like a family member or business partner. “Sophia, get on with it. It’s not safe here.”

Sophia didn’t flinch. “I’m not going to leave until I have a good conversation with him.” He tried to hold on to her, but she took the bodyguard’s hand away. He turned to Mark. “Is there any way we can meet again? This is not the case. Not on the street.”

He handed her a calling card. Before he could answer, he was escorted back to the car. He just stared as the convoy left, not sure if it was the last.

Three weeks passed. Marco has a small art exhibit at IT Park with other local artists. As he was sorting out the canvas, a woman in a jacket and hat approached. “Is it free to take a picture?” He didn’t recognize her right away, but when he took off his clothes, he seemed stunned. “Sophia?” She smiled, no makeup, no jewelry, no convoy. “It’s just me. This is not the “son of a politician” they think it is. “That’s the Sophia you know.”

Marcus couldn’t speak right away. “I just can’t paint you,” he said softly. “I can love you again if you let me.” Sophia laughed, but there were tears in the corners of her eyes. “Let’s start with the coffee. There are no guards, no cars, no fear.”

By the light of the small spot lamp in the exhibit, Marco began to draw the face of the woman who had long been etched in his memory. And in the midst of the noisy city, two hearts separated by time met—now, no longer as a memory, but as a new beginning.

—

Marco and Sophia went to a little café near Lahug—the kind that was ignored, quiet, and always had the smell of freshly brewed coffee. They chose the far side of the table, somewhat hidden, to avoid the view of the crowd. Sophia leaned back in the chair watching Marco who still seemed to be in disbelief that he was facing her without a bodyguard or a fear of a sudden stabbing.

“Do you know I’ve been looking for you before?” said Sophia softly as she spun the cup of coffee. “My grandmother used to say that you were in Chicago. I was forced to move in with my family because of my dad’s business and debts. I never came back.”

“I thought you had forgotten about me,” Marco replied with no mixture of anger, but understanding. “I wish I could have been a part of your youth.”

Sophia nodded, but immediately smiled slightly. “You haven’t gone out of my mind. No matter how good I went, there was something missing.”

Marco nodded and sighed. “Sophia… If you come back into my life, I won’t be able to protect you from your world. I can’t afford to buy a new one.”

Sophia held out her hand. “I don’t need a guy who can handle the money or influence around me. I need someone to be with me without a camera, without a name, without wealth.”

Marco was stunned. It was only then that he realized that his simple dream still had value to the man he once loved. Before he could answer, two men suddenly passed outside the café—both in black and with ear-pieces. Sophia’s brow furrowed at the sight of them.

“What’s that?” asked Mark, smiling.

“These are Titus’ people. They’ve been watching me for a long time since I ran away from home for a while,” he replied softly. Nervousness was evident in his eyes, but not fear—tired.

“Would you like me to take you with me?” asked Mark, though he knew he was hesitant.

“No,” Sophia replied, standing up firmly. “I’m not going to go back to them like that. But we have to be careful.”

They walked out of the café, and that’s where the two men found Sophia. “Mom, I’ve been looking for you,” someone said coldly.

Marcus nodded without thinking about himself. “At the time, he was not kidnapped or assaulted. He left on his own.”

Sophia looked over at her family’s figures. “Tell Titus that we’re going to talk my way. I’m not going to stop meeting people I want to see.”

While the two men weren’t convinced, they didn’t force Sophia either. As Marco walked away, he whispered, “Next time, I’m not going to run or hide. I’m going to find a way to live where I’m happy—not where I’m controlled.”

Marcus paused for a moment and looked at him. “If you will, I’ll be a part of that plan.”

Sophia smiled, no longer with tears but with courage. “From now on, yes.”

And amid the traffic, jeepneys, city lights, and noise of Cebu City, they walked together—not as two people who met on the street, but as two hearts ready to fight for a new era, even if the world around them was not used to such returns.