The automated gates of Jun-Jun's property glided open silently, revealing a wide driveway leading to a house that looked less like a home and more like a modern art museum sculpted from glass, steel, and gleaming white concrete. Manicured lawns, illuminated by strategically placed uplighting, bordered the drive. It was aggressively minimalist and undeniably expensive.
Jun-Jun hopped out of the lead taxi, stretching luxuriously. "Home sweet home!" He turned to Manong Ben. "Manong, thank you for the excellent driving! Very professional convoy leadership!"
Manong Ben beamed, clutching the P100,000 initial payment plus the P5,000 sampaguita/gate guard tip money. "Salamat din po, Sir Jun-Jun! Kayo po ang blessing!" (Thank you too, Sir Jun-Jun! You are the blessing!)
"Alright everyone!" Jun-Jun announced, projecting his voice towards the other nine taxi drivers who were now curiously peering out their windows at the impressive house. "Thank you for your service! The 'Makati Security Convoy' mission was a rousing success! Drive safe on your way back!"
He paused, struck by a thought. "Oh! And Manong Ben!" He jogged back to the lead taxi. "That car wash where I left the party bus? Sparkle & Shine near Kamias? Tell you what." He pulled out his phone, did a quick search, and tapped a few times. "I just bought it. Online transfer. Consider it done."
Manong Ben stared, utterly bewildered. "Binili... niyo po yung car wash, sir?" (You... bought the car wash, sir?)
"Yup! Seems like a good investment," Jun-Jun said casually. "Anyway, tell the owner – well, the former owner, I guess – that all taxi drivers in this convoy get free 'deluxe washes' for life! Just mention my name!" He grinned. "Employee benefits!"
Manong Ben looked completely poleaxed now. Buying a car wash on a whim? Free washes for life? He simply nodded mutely, unable to process the scale of his passenger's eccentricity.
Jun-Jun gave a final wave as Manong Ben and the other nine taxis carefully executed U-turns on the wide street and drove back towards the village gate, their occupants likely buzzing with the most unbelievable fare story of their lives.
Migs finally emerged from the second taxi, looking pale and exhausted. He surveyed the imposing house, then looked back at the departing taxi convoy, then at Jun-Jun, who was cheerfully dusting off his jeans.
"You bought the car wash?" Migs asked weakly.
"Seemed easier than arranging long-term parking for the party bus," Jun-Jun shrugged. "Plus, Leo the attendant seemed like a nice kid. Maybe I'll promote him."
"Right," Migs said, rubbing his eyes. "Of course. Why not."
As they approached the massive front door, it swung open silently. A man in a crisp, simple grey uniform stood there – Mang George, Jun-Jun's household manager. He was older, impeccably composed, with an air of quiet competence that suggested nothing could surprise him anymore, not even his employer arriving home via a ten-taxi convoy after apparently causing city-wide chaos.
"Good evening, Sir Jun-Jun. Sir Migs," Mang George greeted, his voice calm and neutral. "Welcome home. Was your... outing satisfactory?"
"Excellent, Mang George!" Jun-Jun declared, striding past him into the cavernous, minimalist foyer, which featured polished concrete floors, stark white walls, and a single, bafflingly large abstract sculpture. "Mission accomplished! We secured the halo-halo."
"Ah, the halo-halo mission," Mang George nodded slightly, as if this were a regular operational codename. "Very good, sir. Will you and Sir Migs be requiring dinner?"
"Yes, please!" Jun-Jun said. "Something simple. Maybe steak? And tell Chef to prepare that ridiculously expensive ice cream I bought last week – the one made with unicorn tears or whatever."
"The artisanal Kopi Luwak gelato, sir? Certainly," Mang George replied without batting an eye. "And for Sir Migs?"
Migs just shook his head. "Water. Lots of water. Maybe an aspirin." He sank onto a low, geometrically severe sofa that looked more like a piece of modern art than comfortable seating.
Mang George nodded again. "Right away, sirs." He disappeared silently into another part of the house.
Jun-Jun sprawled onto the sofa opposite Migs. The house was cool, quiet, a stark contrast to the sensory assault of the past several hours.
"Okay," Migs said, taking a deep breath. "Now that we're here, and you're not actively buying modes of transportation... can we talk about the damages?"
"Damages?" Jun-Jun looked genuinely puzzled. "Did I hit anything?"
"Not literal damages, Jun-Jun! The consequences! The sedan you abandoned on EDSA? The bread truck blocking traffic near Quezon Avenue? The party bus currently sitting in the car wash you just bought? Captain Reyes? The viral news reports?"
"Oh, that stuff," Jun-Jun waved a hand dismissively. "Mang George will handle it."
"Mang George will handle it?" Migs repeated incredulously. "How?"
"I'll tell him to," Jun-Jun explained simply. "He's very efficient. He'll arrange towing for the sedan – probably scrap it, it was getting old anyway. He'll contact the bakery about the bread truck – maybe they can collect it, or we'll compensate them fully. He can manage the car wash transfer and make sure Leo knows about the free washes for the taxi guys. As for Captain Reyes..." Jun-Jun tapped his chin. "Maybe a large, anonymous donation to the MMDA Welfare Fund? Or perhaps I can hire him as a 'Traffic Solutions Consultant' with an enormous salary? People are usually less angry when they're employed by you."
Migs just stared. Jun-Jun's ability to treat serious legal and logistical problems as minor administrative tasks to be delegated or bought off was staggering.
"And you're not worried? About getting arrested? Or ending up on some government watchlist?"
"Worried?" Jun-Jun laughed. "Migs, life's too short to worry! It's about experiences! Today was an experience! We had drama, action, comedy, free pandesal, a party bus, and top-tier halo-halo! That's a successful day!"
"A successful day that involved half of Metro Manila thinking you're a public menace!"
"Details!" Jun-Jun grinned. "Think of the stories we can tell!"
Mang George reappeared silently, placing a tall glass of water and two aspirin tablets on the low table in front of Migs. "Dinner will be served in approximately forty-five minutes, sirs," he announced. "Sir Jun-Jun, there were several calls from a 'Captain Reyes' earlier, and messages from your legal team regarding media inquiries about the EDSA incident. Shall I handle them?"
"Yes, please, Mang George," Jun-Jun said gratefully. "Standard procedure. Tell the lawyers 'no comment' and maybe send Captain Reyes... a fruit basket? A very large, very expensive fruit basket."
"A fruit basket, sir?" Mang George confirmed, his expression unchanging.
"Yes! And maybe offer him that consultancy position. See what he says."
"Very good, sir." Mang George bowed slightly and retreated.
Migs swallowed the aspirin, took a long drink of water, and looked at Jun-Jun, who was already flicking through channels on a giant, wall-mounted television screen. There was no point arguing. There was no point stressing. This was Jun-Jun's world; Migs just occasionally got caught in its gravitational pull.
"So," Migs sighed, finally feeling a measure of calm resignation wash over him. "What ridiculously over-the-top thing are we doing tomorrow?"
Jun-Jun looked up from the TV, his eyes sparkling. "Funny you should ask! I was just thinking... have you ever tried zero-gravity halo-halo?"
Migs closed his eyes. It was going to be a long night. And an even longer friendship.