#spoiledsovls: jangmi

[maimeelai]

CLOSED. // with @spoiledsovls ft. jangmi

This wasn’t just any gig. This was supposed to be the gig. The one that would finally put her on the map, maybe even nudge her out of this endless financial sinkhole. Chart potential, exposure, a break. Something. Anything.

Leaving her mother’s house had been the proudest moment of her life. But pride didn’t pay rent, and out here, where independence came with bills and judgment, it was starting to feel less like a triumph and more like a slow, exhausting hustle. Especially when she could barely hold down a day job without messing something up.

Lee was her only real chance. And yes, she kept crawling back to Lily’s Cafeteria to pick up shifts, doing sick covers, late nights, double weekends. But even her childhood best friend wouldn’t risk giving her a permanent contract. Not after the incident with the espresso machine. 

Still, she had to fight for her art. Somehow. There were the occasional commissions online–thrift flips from ukay-ukay finds she turned into edgy, wearable pieces. Small wins. And then there was her music. Her real lifeline.

She had planned to sing an original tonight. Something raw. Something hers. But word spread that a potential agent might be in the crowd, and in a panic, she swapped it last minute for something safer. Something famous. Set Fire to the Rain wasn’t her first choice, but it showed range. It showed drama.

Well. It should’ve. The agent didn’t show. And Sienna’s voice, already fraying at the edges from nerves, had cracked more from resentment than emotion. She hit the last note sharp and bitter and walked off stage already parched for a drink.

Something hard. Something she could barely afford. She made a beeline for the bar and slapped the counter with the kind of energy only heartbreak and chronic underemployment could summon.  “Hoy, pogi,” she said to the bartender with a crooked smile. “Think you can spare me a trickle from the top shelf? On the house na lang? For mercy?”

[maimeelai]

CLOSED. // with @spoiledsovls ft. jangmi

[Lilibeth: Text] What do you mean you have a date?

Sienna left it at that, refusing to jinx this opportunity by texting Lee back and letting him burst her happy bubble. His downer bestie energy would crush her dreams in one word—and he didn’t even need to be intentionally mean about it. He just had to state the facts.

Still, maybe she should’ve given him a little warning instead of that last‑minute text saying she wouldn’t be able to show up for her shift at Lily’s Cafeteria today. She forgot to tell him earlier. It happens. She’d been too distracted.

Now she sat in the rival coffee shop, elbows pressed to the edge of a small wooden table, pretending she wasn’t spiraling. The place had the same basic layout as Lily’s, with walls painted a patchy limewash beige, crowded with framed prints of Mt. Makiling and Laguna De Bay. A stand fan in the corner rattled like it was doing it’s very best and Sienna empathically mumbled a cheering on as it fought with the humming aircon overhead. The smell was familiar, though: barako coffee, a hint of burnt muscovado, and of course, garlicky corned beef.

Sienna kept rearranging the sugar packets in front of her, lining up the brown and white sachets, then ruining the pattern just to fix it again. Her knees bounced under the table. 

So. Back to this date. Was this even a date?

She’d said it herself when she last parted with Jangmi, sounding so cool with her little wink: “It’s a date!” Like it was the perfect closing line for the season finale of some cute romcom. But what if Jangmi had just taken it as something people say to be cute? Aaaaand not all dates were romantic, right? Sienna had said stupid things like, “I have a date with my mom,” before. Maybe she was reading way too much into it. Maybe this was just coffee. She was just gonna show Jangmi around the town. If anything, this was just some pro bono tour guide gig. No big deal. 

Oh man. She did not think this through. And why was the overthinking kicking in now of all times? She was just starting to deflate into full‑on anxiety when the coffee shop door chimed. The bell above it let out a bright, familiar ding and Jangmi emerged from the doorway like she’d brought the sun with her.

For a second, all the noise in the café—the hiss of the espresso machine, the barista calling out someone’s iced matcha, the low murmur of students hunched over laptops—faded into a dull blur. Jangmi. She so looked soft and effortless and entirely out of Sienna’s league.

Her stomach swooped. “Hey,” she managed, her voice coming out a little too bright. She half‑stood, then awkwardly sat back down, then decided to stand again and waved Jangmi over with fingers that wouldn’t quite stay still. “Over here. This table—” She gestured toward the humming wall unit just above them. “Close to the aircon. Best seat in the house.”