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Isa stops scrolling through her phone to playfully roll her eyes at me.
“Oh, listen to you. Not everyone has money for first class flights with their own bed and all that luxury shit,” she lectures me. “I’m just trying to give you insight into how my life usually is here in the Philippines, which I’m pretty sure is gonna be important in our upcoming interview. I don’t come from wealth, Leo, unless you have forgotten.”
I take a deep breath, knowing she’s right. I’m letting my privilege get the best of me. I’m a lucky person to have what I do, but I know that’s not the reality for most people, and I shouldn’t be so closed-minded to new experiences. While this isn't normal for me, it doesn’t give me the right to be a little brat.
“You’re right, I’m acting like a spoiled child,” I admit, earning a satisfied grin on Isa’s face. “Can you at least tell me where we’re going?”
“You just need to relax. I promise you it’s worth the one-hour flight. How about we use that time to keep going through the binder?”
And that’s what we do for the uneventful flight. As we go back and forth asking and answering the more trivial questions about each other, I’ve come to realize that all flights are pretty much the same regardless of what class you’re in. It's just a few moments until you're up in the air where you can marvel at the view. At least, until you go above the clouds. But this time, Isa won't even let me see out the window. I can’t help but peek a little at other people’s windows just to see where we’re going. I’ve concluded that we’re definitely going to a place surrounded by water, but that doesn’t really help narrow it down since the entire Philippines is just land surrounded by water.
“And what's my favorite color? If you still remember?” Isa asks, reading from the binder. We’ve been at this for the past forty-five minutes, and we’ve aced all of it so far. Granted, it’s only the trivial questions, but that’s a good start.
As I’m about to answer her question, I can’t help but notice how the sunset is a beautiful orange. It’s a deep shade of orange, and not the mild one that I’ve gotten used to. I see glimpses of the water turning into a beautiful hue of pink from the sky reacting to the intense golden rays of dusk.
“It’s that exact shade of orange.” I point at the window on the opposite side of the aisle.
Isa turns to her own window and opens it, immediately eliciting a small gasp as she sees the magnificent view outside.
“That’s exactly it.” We sit there in silence, appreciating how the water dances to the tangerine shades it’s reflecting.
When we get off the plane, I’m greeted by the smell of salt air as tiny waves tease their way into my eardrums. It’s like I’m in a trance as we walk out of the airport, just looking at the breathtaking view of the shore. Isa leaves me standing at the side of the road for a couple of minutes as she goes to buy us tickets for transportation. She could have been gone for a year or two and I wouldn’t know the difference. The beauty of this place is ten times better than all the travel photos I have ever seen in those glossy magazines.
“Where are we?” I ask breathlessly as she takes my hand and pulls me toward one of the taxi tricycles. It’s probably a common method of transport here in the Philippines, and it’s honestly quite an experience.
Isa chuckles at my question as we both sit down together inside the tricycle. “Welcome to Boracay Island, Leo.”
After greeting the man peddling the bike, he starts going, and going fast. The air rushes through in your face as the vehicle accelerates, cooling you down from the intense summer heat of the country.
I’ve seen a lot of beautiful things before. I’ve been to the prettiest places in Europe and the breathtaking sights of the Americas. I’ve seen the shiniest city lights and the vast valleys of the world. All that, but this is the first time where I feel like time is frozen and all I will ever need is the sight of the sun gracing the gentle waters surrounding the island. Suddenly, as the wind breezes through my hair and I see Isa’s peaceful face as she takes it all in, I feel the need to document everything. I haven’t held a camera in years, but it’s not stopping me from pulling out my phone and start recording the moment. My movement catches Isa’s attention.
“What are you doing?” she asks, perplexed, but has a wide smile on her face. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take a picture the whole time I’ve known you.”
“Nothing, I’m just preserving the memory,” I reply, making sure my shot of the shore is symmetrical and captures the essence of its beauty. I don’t think any camera can do any justice to what I’m seeing in real life, but I want to try. “And I was an aspiring director before I took over the film studio, you know,” I remind her, as it’s actually one of the bullet points in the binder we’ve been religiously studying.
Isa hums, letting herself go to the breeze. “It’s the first time I’ve heard you talk about it, though,” she points out, not really irritated or teasing. She states it as just a fact, and I can’t deny that it’s true. I’ve been evasive about the topic, but I sincerely feel this isn’t the time for that now.
After a few minutes of a scenic ride, we get off the tricycle. “I gotta say, I think I’m getting used to these things,” I say to Isa, patting the hood of the small vehicle as she pays the driver, who only smiles at us.
“Yeah? How about a public boat ride?” Isa challenges me, not even giving me a minute to breathe as I realize we’re standing in front of a port. Beyond the building is a row of small ferry boats with colorful designs boarding tourists and their luggages.
I shoot her a small smirk. “Bring it on.”
It feels surreal once we’re on the boat. Yes, it’s filled with a mixed bag of people. I can tell that some of them are tourists just like us, probably in awe of how beautiful the place is. Some of them seem like locals, just getting by in their day-to-day lives. I can’t imagine living in such a place, however. Seems like an island paradise every day.
Luckily, I get assigned a window seat at the ferry, and seeing that crystal clear water makes me feel even more at peace inside. I’ve always been known as a workaholic no-nonsense kind of boss, and I’m not diminishing myself and saying that it’s steered me on the wrong path. My work ethic has provided many successes to the film studio, and I’ve established myself as a film magnate in Hollywood. And that's a huge feat, as it's probably the finickiest place in the world.
With all of that, a part of me feels like I’ve missed out on a lot, like this place right here. Boracay Island. It’s bringing me back to earth, if that makes sense. I’ve heard people talk about this place before, but I get it now.
I continue filming, and when my camera puts Isa in the frame, I realize that this trip isn’t entirely about me. Sure, I may be having a blast right now, but I can’t just forget how she went up to her parents and confronted them about why they didn’t use her money to create their dream house as promised. When she told me what happened, I could tell that she was deeply hurt in all of it. And it wasn't about the money, it was about the secrecy.
Right now, she seems to be looking off into the distance at nothing in particular. I don’t know what comes over me, but I see my finger in frame of the shot tapping her shoulder. Immediately, Isa faces toward me, but visibly blushes once she realizes that the camera is on her.
“Stop it,” Isa groans, a bit sheepish at having a lens pointed at her. “You know I’m not used to being on-screen.”
I can’t help but let out a chuckle.
“Too bad. You should see how beautiful you are right now.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them, and we both tense. It becomes awkward for a couple of minutes, until I remember something: I’ve never been the one to hold back on anything I say or do, and I don’t think I’m gonna start now. Not when it really matters to me.
