The Magical Bra

COCO'S POV

I've been standing in line at this office for almost an hour, my last attempt for the day. I've been staring at the clock hanging on the wall in front of me, counting the minutes until my afternoon class starts. But I'm still stuck here due to the sheer number of applicants. I can't just leave, hoping that luck is on my side here.

Luck? That's what I told myself at the five places I applied to earlier. But they all rejected me. These companies are like guys nowadays, so picky. I'm the one applying, after all. I might not be beautiful, but at least I'm kind.

I've been roaming around our city since this morning, searching for a job, enduring hunger and thirst. Yet, every place with an "urgent hiring" sign didn't accept me. They didn't directly say I was rejected. They just mentioned they'd call me or that they already found someone for the position I wanted.

Their faces, though. I know they just don't want to hire me, even though they haven't hired anyone yet. I'm aware that my appearance is the issue, making it hard for them to accept me.

This is the problem when you apply for a job in the Philippines. If you're not attractive, it's tough to find employment. They'd think you're an ex-convict or an escapee. Some even asked if I sell drugs or used to be involved in abortion. If you're ugly, they'll have a negative impression of you. Wait, why are people's attitudes so bad nowadays?

I sighed and prayed earnestly to myself. I hope they hire me this time. I really need the money. Yesterday, my school dean told me I had to pay half of my tuition fees. The school rules changed, and my full scholarship became half.

If only my dad hadn't died two years ago, I wouldn't be struggling like this. Our bakery, our source of income for years, burned down. It caused my dad's death. Everything we saved went up in smoke. Our house was also consumed by fire. My dad's savings went to his funeral, and what's left is dwindling because of my daily expenses.

Actually, I wouldn't mind stopping my education to make things easier. I could focus on finding a job. But every time I remember my dad's advice when he was still alive, it strengthens my resolve to continue my studies. He always told me that no matter what happens, I need to finish my education. Everything in the world fades and can be stolen, but knowledge is a lifelong treasure.

Even if I'm the only one left in my life now, I won't give up. I just think about my dad to gather the courage to face life's challenges. I know these are just trials for me, and after this, a beautiful rainbow awaits me at the end. The beginning is always tough, but the ending is sweet. How sweet? I don't know yet. I'm not even at the end, right?

"Concepcion Cordova?" I looked at the door when someone called my name. The woman, probably a secretary, was peeking through. "Concepcion Cordova? Are you still here?" she repeated.

"That's me!" I said energetically, quickly standing up and fixing myself. As I walked towards the door, my fellow applicants were staring at me.

They were still whispering and laughing to themselves as if they found something amusing. I don't care. I walked with my head held high, even though I knew they were secretly making fun of me. Well, how can they not when they're all beautiful, tall, and look like beauty queens? They're like precious diamonds, and I'm just a common stone. The difference in their beauty and mine is vast. But still, I don't care. I'm intelligent, after all.

"Are you aware that you're applying for a modeling job?" the woman who called me asked when I was in front of the door.

I smiled, "Yes, of course." I smiled even more at her.

"Are you sure? You know this is modeling?" she insisted, looking at me seriously.

"Yes," I nodded, "I'm very much aware."

"Really, are you sure?" she repeated.

My forehead creased in annoyance, "Yes, Miss. Do you think I'm stupid? I'm a university scholar, and my IQ is high. I can read, for your information, so I know that I'm applying for a modeling job." I replied irritated.

"Well, if you know, why did you apply here?"

"Huh?" I asked in surprise.

She shook her head, "Nothing, girl. Go inside. Good luck with your application." she said and smiled, even though I knew her smile was fake.

I murmured to myself and finally entered, closing the door. I wonder what that girl is thinking. She probably sees me as foolish and unable to read. Excuse me. I'm not bragging, but I'm intelligent. I know that I'm applying for a modeling job.

I adjusted myself again once I was inside the office. I saw an older man sitting at the desk in front of me. He was focused on reading what was likely my resume. When he looked up, I immediately smiled and approached him.

"Good afternoon, sir," I greeted respectfully.

"Same to you, Ms. Cordova." he replied, "You do know that this is a modeling job, right?"

"Huh?" I replied in surprise, "Yes, sir. I'm very aware. In fact, I've read the signboard so many times before entering your premises. I'm very much aware that I am applying for a modeling job." I switched to English to impress him.

But he didn't smile.

"You know this is a modeling job, but you still applied. Aren't you aware that in the modeling industry, we only accept a woman with stunning beauty and a splendid body?" he asked, "Your height, Ms. Cordova, doesn't meet our qualifications. 5'4? We need a woman who is 5'8. A woman with good sinuosity, impressive and nice boobs, a well-formed butt. This is modeling, Ms. Cordova, and not just some ordinary establishment."

I swallowed, "So, you're saying?"

He cleared his throat, "I am saying that a woman like you doesn't fit in modelling. You're too small for this kind of job. You don't have a nice body. Your boobs are too tiny. If you're wearing a man's clothes, I could even mistake you for a man. Your butt is so puny. You have a straight body," he continued, "But on the other hand, your resume is too impressive. You're a University scholar, right? You're a smart woman, but I'm sorry. We need a woman who has beauty."

I nodded even though his words hurt. I kept a smile on my face.

"You may go now, Ms. Cordova."

"Thank you, sir," I said, bidding farewell and walking towards the door to leave.

Before I could completely exit, the sir I spoke to had one more thing to say.

"Try to apply in a call center agent. You know, where your face is hiding while doing a job. I am sure you would be accepted immediately," he said, smiling, "Have a nice day, Ms. Cordova."

I just smiled back at him, and as I turned away, I couldn't help but grimace to myself. Another added insult. As I left his office, I smiled, though I wanted to cry at this moment. I've never been so humiliated before. This is the first time with the companies I tried applying to.

When I was younger, I used to be teased by my playmates for being ugly. They said I wouldn't find a man who would love me because of my looks. I would go home crying to Papa, and he would comfort me, saying I wasn't ugly and that, for him, I was the most beautiful girl. After that, I would feel okay.

As long as one person believed I wasn't ugly, I was happy. I shook off every insult thrown at me since then. But now that the one person who was important to me is gone, I have no one to defend me.

Hay, Coco. Don't cry. It's just that. Many jobs are waiting for you. You won't lose your self-esteem just because some stupid establishment insulted your whole existence. You weren't raised like that by your dad. He wanted you to become a strong and independent woman. There are jobs out there that won't judge you based on external beauty but on the content of your mind and knowledge.

As I left the office, I quickly wiped the tears from the corner of my eyes and smiled.

"I may not have gotten a job today, but that's okay. I'll go home first and look for another job later. I'm not ugly. They just don't know how to appreciate God's abstract art."

I continued walking and stopped at the jeepney stop on my way to my small apartment. I'll take a shower first and change into my uniform. Then, later on, I'll continue my job search.

While waiting for a jeepney, a bus stopped in front of me. I couldn't help but smile when I saw a picture of the only man I admire. Heron Del Valle, the number 1 hottest actor in the Philippines and my schoolmate. Isn't that cool? I go to a rich school because of the scholarship I got.

Heron looks so handsome in the picture. It seems like he has a new endorsement again. It's for a famous local clothing brand. Heron is shirtless, wearing only black pants. He's holding his belt, seemingly pulling it down. Then, he's smiling. That famous mysterious smile of his.

I just stared at Heron's picture because of that smile. I don't know if it's just me or what. But his smile seems unreal. It doesn't reach his eyes because there's no joy in it. He just smiled. A kind of smile that doesn't contain happiness. He's the only actor in the country with that kind of smile, hence the name mysterious smile. Even at school, when I see him surrounded by his fans, he still wears that smile. No joy. No sparkle in his eyes.

I wonder why? Is he not truly happy even though almost all women and LGBTQ+ in the Philippines are crazy about him?

Oh, darn! What am I thinking again? Several jeepneys passed by, but I was lost in my thoughts about Heron. I always end up spacing out when I think about him.

When another jeepney finally came by, I hopped on.

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"Oh, why do you look like it's Good Friday on your face? You should be smiling broadly now because your Heron is downstairs. Those annoying girls here at school are going crazy again."

I glanced at Janice as she spoke. I didn't even notice that my one and only friend here in school had arrived at the balcony of our classroom. We were waiting for our next class, and my mind was so preoccupied that I didn't realize Heron had already arrived at school. I quickly shifted my gaze downward and saw that he was indeed being swarmed by girls, as usual. He always gets that attention whenever he comes to school.

"Sigh," I heaved a sigh while watching Heron being surrounded by admirers, his bodyguards doing their best to keep fans at bay.

"Why the deep sighs, Coco? What's your problem?" Janice asked. "Did those idiots here at school bully you again? Tell me who, and I'll give them a piece of my mind!"

"Seriously, no," I replied, redirecting my gaze to Janice. "I'm not bullied. One stupidity is enough, you know!"

"Good for you," my friend laughed. "So, what's up? You look troubled again. Tell me, and maybe I can help."

I sighed again before gathering my thoughts to confide in Janice.

"I need a job. My savings are running out. Then, the dean said yesterday that I need to pay half of my tuition fee. Our tuition is P88,000, so that means I need to pay P44,000. Where will I get that? I still have to pay for my rented apartment. How am I going to survive this? I might need to sell my body or become an organ donor. Want to buy my intestines, Jan? Or if you prefer, I can offer my lungs. They're fresh. I don't smoke or drink alcohol!"

She slapped me on the head. "You really are crazy, you know that?" she scolded. "Sell your body? Do you want me to beat you up? You're a smart woman, but sometimes your brain malfunctions!"

"Just kidding," I grinned. "I won't do that, really. I'll never sell my precious body. But kidding aside, I really need a large amount of money."

"Do you want me to lend you some? How much do you need?" she asked. "And you should leave your apartment. Move to my condo; it's quite spacious. It can fit the two of us."

"Oh no, Jan!" I refused. "I still owe you, and I don't want to add to that."

"I'm not collecting. What are friends for if not to help you with your problems?" she rolled her eyes. "Hurry up. How much do you need?"

"Come on, Janice. I don't want to. People might think that the only reason we're friends is because I'm after your money."

"Don't think about what those darn classmates of ours are thinking. I might just step on them," she replied, adopting her Amazonian stance. "Go on. How much?"

"Ugh, Janice. I don't want to. Maybe our classmates will really think that I'm only friends with you because of money, and that's why we became friends."

"Don't even think about what those darned classmates are thinking. I might just step on them," she responded with a smirk. "Come on. How much?"

"Fine, Janice. Forget it. I might as well sell my organs," I teased.

"Stop joking around. Now, tell me, how much do you need?" she insisted.

"Okay, Janice. Just a joke," I chuckled. "I really need a job."

"Job?" Janice pondered. "I know something. Our company is looking for a model for the clothes they're releasing in the market. Interested? I can recommend you."

"Is it for Halloween costumes?" I teased.

"No, come on!" she playfully hit my arm. "I think it's for casual wear. I'm not sure. I'll call Mommy later."

"No need!" I said. "Do you really think I can get into your company? With this face?" I pointed to my face. "This is only fit for Halloween. For horror themes, you know, like a scarecrow in haunted houses or an extra ghost in scary movies. Self-deprecating humor."

"You're not ugly, Coco!" my ever-supportive friend exclaimed. "You just don't know how to groom yourself. You're beautiful. I envy your eyes, they're sky blue."

"Only my eyes are beautiful," I laughed.

My eyes are indeed sky blue because my Papa is half American, and I inherited my eyes from him. The rest, I got from my Mama, who I've never met, and I don't even know if she's alive or already gone.

Janice and I continued talking about job options she knew about. However, it turned out that all she mentioned were modeling opportunities. I didn't tell her that I applied earlier at a modeling establishment and got rejected. It came with a bonus of insults. I didn't want Janice to get annoyed again. She really doesn't like it when people insult me. She doesn't want to see me cry, and when she does, she turns into an Amazon.

The afternoon quickly passed, and everyone headed home. Janice bid me farewell, mentioning that she had plans with her mom. Janice comes from a wealthy family, both her parents being models, which explains her beauty and modeling potential. I often wonder why we've been friends since the first year until now, my fourth year. All I know is that I have a best friend, and not all rich people have bad attitudes. Janice is the living proof of that.

I grabbed my bag and left the classroom. I was bumped into by three classmates while walking.

"Excuse me! You're already ugly, and yet you're blocking the way!" one of them said, and they all burst into laughter.

I just ignored them because I was busy thinking about where to apply for a job tonight. Maybe in bars? No, I won't become a GRO (Guest Relations Officer). Maybe I'll try being a waitress.

Before I completely left the school, I saw Heron's car passing in front of me. The window was open, and I saw him with closed eyes and a headset on. Heron looks handsome even with his eyes closed. Could there be someone ugly in that man?

I smiled, momentarily entertaining the thought of him being my boyfriend. But my smile quickly faded as reality slapped me. It would never happen. Heron is millions of kilometers away from me in terms of wealth and social status.

Someone like him would likely end up with a beautiful and wealthy girl. Who in their right mind with such charm would waste time on someone like me, who they say isn't even pretty, let alone sexy.

At least he's intelligent. LOL!

I wished for some magic. I wished Cinderella's fairy godmother were real. I wished someone could give me glass shoes to change my life.

Being beautiful opens many doors. Many opportunities come your way, and there are good jobs waiting for you.

But once again, reality slapped me. The reality that there's no magic, no fairy godmother, and no one will give me glass shoes.

Living in reality is tough.