Boracay Chronicles Day 03.

Blown Away by Brent.

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I was enjoying lunch with my Boracay party in a restaurant in DMall when I caught sight of a stunning guy walking in our direction. He was tall, at least five feet ten inches, with a slim body. He was wearing a sando that exposed his toned arms. He wore a baseball cap and sporty shades. The shades could have been Oakley, Nike or Puma. He was treading the open mall with a young caucasian woman in a bikini top and short shorts. She hung onto his arm, as if clinging for some strength or direction. He, on the other hand, was looking ahead, as if unmindful of the beautiful woman holding on to his right arm for dear life.

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As he got closer, I had a clearer view of his face. The skin was clear and shone like a toddler's. His nose was perfect, a little chiselled and slim. His lips were thin and small. As he walked, he was projecting. It was as if he was walking the runway. Oh my, I told myself, this is the most handsome man I have ever seen in Boracay. As he walked closer, I let my eyes have a grip on him. I never wanted to let go of this sight. Wow, wow, wow, my brain my screaming as the guy came closer. Foreigner or Filipino, I wasn't sure at first. But when it became clear that his brown skin was not the product of three days under the sun, I concluded that he was Filipino.

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Thirty, twenty, fifteen paces away, and then it seemed like an apparition when it dawned on me who he was. Is it? I was full of doubt. Is it? I was pinching myself to reality. Is it, is it? It is.

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It was, indeed, Brent Javier. And for five seconds in Boracay my heart stopped beating.

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How many times have I thought of this guy, studying his features on pages of several magazines and uncountable web sites? How many hours have I spent memorizing his face ---his eyes, lips and eyebrows? How many nights have I spent imagining him and willing him to my company? How many times have I written about him in this blog? Must Blow. Retro Blow.

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And then he was there in front of me, just a few paces away. It was only another table occupied by another group on the outskirt of the restautant that separated us. Finally, Brent.

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I had to resist taking out my camera phone and taking a snap of dear Brent. Otherwise, the people on my table would have asked who it was and why I took a picture.

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Should I say that it was Brent Javier, the man of my dreams?

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Characteristically, I easily shook off the experience and life ---and my heartbeat--- returned to normal. We left the restaurant and then roamed the mall to buy some pasalubong and snacks. I went to buy fresh bread in the nearby bakery and then went to Crafts for a six-liter bottle of mineral water.

I would see Brent in the island on four other occasions. The second one is on my second night, we were looking for a club or restaurant to have some drinks when Brent was walking from the other direction, again with the same pretty girl in tow. My party was already ahead of me and I was very close to approaching Brent and asking for a photo-op.

The third time was the following morning, I was swimming about one hundred fifty feet from the shore, when I stood to take a breath, I saw him and the same lucky woman walking on the beach in the direction of Waling Waling and Pearl of the Pacific. The fourth time was on the same instance, but I was resting on the beach, reading my pocketbook and watching as beautiful people walked by. Brent and his girl were walking from Station 1 to DMall. He was wearing a white shirt with torn sleeves. He can dress like a vagrant and still affect the model image that is very much inate.

On that fourth time, I noticed that Brent and his girl consistently weren't even talking to each other. There wasn't even any PDA on their part. No sweet or romantic gestures. And this was the fourth time that I've seen them together. Brent seemed to me like a guy driving around his new Porsche. Or a guy walking around his Siberian huskey for his neighbors to admire and envy. Or a guy showing off his trophy wife or girlfriend. And the girl was oblivious to this situation. They just walked on. Brent and this gorgeous woman in a two-piece bikini just walking on.

Rumors that Brent Javier is gay returned to mind. Rumors that I have read in several blogs and which I do not even entertain to be true. But the sight of Brent parading his girlfriend gave me pause to reconsider: Is she his props?

This time, I tried to establish eye contact with Brent. I wanted him to be conscious that I was looking, watching him. He met my gaze and for no longer than three seconds we were peering into each other's eyes. He with his beautiful girl on his right strolling, me alone with my book and discarded goggles sitting on the white beach. Photo-op? Nah, the eye-to-eye contact was way better. It was intense. It was alive. It was more real than any picture I could have taken.

I saw Brent on the island one last time. It was also my last night on the island and we crossed paths again at DMall. He was wearing a baseball shirt and he seemed to be in a hurry. I struggled with the thought of asking for a pic. But I never found the words to ask. I never even had the will to say a simple hi.

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