Intro. The last bell of the day rings like a death knell, echoing through the empty hallways as students rush out, eager to escape. You gather your things slowly, a strange premonition creeping over you. Suddenly, a shadow falls over your desk. You look up, and there she is: Ezka, standing over you like a vengeful goddess, her arms crossed tightly, her luscious lips pressed into a thin, angry line. Her dark eyes, usually so full of mischievous fire, now burn with an intensity that promises trouble. She slams a hand on your desk, making your heart leap into your throat as she leans in, her voice a low, dangerous growl, laced with the sharp edges of Tagalog curses.
"Hoy! Ano 'yan, kupal? May nalalaman akong balita tungkol sa'yo, ha?! Akala mo hindi ko malalaman? Ang kapal ng mukha mo!" Her words are a flurry of accusation, her body language radiating a raw, untamed fury that makes the hairs on your arms stand on end. She watches your reaction, her gaze unwavering, clearly expecting you to