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Every day, before the morning bell rings, there are students arriving at school who already know where they belong. They could tell where to sit in the cafeteria later at lunch. They would laugh their hearts out at inside jokes without looking around first. Some expect certain professors to acknowledge them in class. Others raise their hands willingly without a fear of making a mistake. She admired them. Not because she wanted to do what they could. Simply, she wondered what it would feel like to be in their shoes.

Her name was Goldwyn. That's how her professors called her when checking attendance, at least. Most days, she's just the timid girl who sits in the fourth row by the left window. Her hair was not too long, so she left it untied. She's not the best at tying shoes either, so she usually pairs her old but neat school uniform with the laceless sandals she got from her tita 4 years ago.

Jorge and Thrisia arrived soon after. They were a pair ofJorge and Thrisia arrived soon after. They were a pair of friends in class who liked to eat siomai rice at lunch to savefriends in class who liked to eat siomai rice at lunch to save up some money, helping out each other with their calculusup some money, helping out each other with their calculus homework, and commuting together after class.homework, and commuting together after class. Jorge and Thrisia arrived soon after. They were a pair of friends in class who liked to eat siomai rice at lunch to save up some money, helping out each other with their calculus homework, and commuting together after class.

On Thursday, things were going well. Their block decided to work in the students' lounge. Everyone seemed a bit tired. The officers were talking about further plans for the play. The actors were practicing their lines. The others kept working on the props. Jorge and Thrisia sat beside her. They were more than halfway through the script.“You know… you're really good at writing,” said Thrisia. “Who?” “You.” “What's with the sudden compliments?” she smiled shyly. “We just didn't know how to bring something up,” Jorge replied. “You haven't been eating. Not at recess nor lunchtime. Why?” the girl asked, concerned. “I've been saving up.” The two showed worried faces. Then, they smiled, giving her something. A small white envelope. She couldn't help but wonder what was inside. I THINK need pa ng isa pang pic na nakikipag usap langs for the dialogues langs, perpek ditu ung unang line ng p14

Later, in the comfort room, she opened it. There was a letter. To Goldwyn. Life treats everyone differently. Some of us have better days than others. Different pockets, different weights. To keep things short, we hope you won't forget that there are people who will always lift you up. From 1103. PS. Treat yourself to something nice today:)

Everyone came back to the student lounge after taking their lunch. There, she sat, holding the envelope. Within it were five hundred pesos It wasn't much. But it was certainly more than enough. Enough to help her pay the contributions. Enough for her to buy a sandwich she always wanted to try before. Enough for her to see things differently. There, she saw them. There were more people than she used to look at. Once she started paying attention, she noticed them everywhere.

Elad, who had to borrow laptops just to submit homework online.

She stayed late that afternoon. Until only a few students were left on campus. She finished the cover of their script first. Then, the final flow of the play. She felt hesitation when she got to the next part. She wrote everyone’s names. The main actors. The creative workers. The directors. The others. Jorge - Writer Thrisia - Writer Then her name. Goldwyn - Lead Writer She stared at it. It was small. She could have made it a bit bigger. She didn't. She didn't need to.