"Kaloy"

 It was 8 pm when I had arrived at the grounds of CNU on the night of the acquaintance party. I was welcomed by dancing lights that came in different hues; the sound of a band playing “Sa Dulo ng Walang Hanggan by December Avenue” on the centennial stage; and the unrecognizable faces of Normalites in their make-up and different get-ups. I looked around in the crowd, hoping that I’d get to see a familiar face. Out of nowhere, a boy in a checkered long-sleeved shirt grabbed my arm and gave me a tight hug. It was my blocmate, Ryan.

 “Hoy, ali na! Mu tukar na ang sunod na banda!” He exclaimed as he dragged me with him into the middle of an overwhelming crowd.

“So, nag enjoy ra mo?” A female MC asked towards the students after a band had played their last song on stage.

The MC was about to introduce the next band that would perform but before I could even hear her say another word; a tall, dark-skinned man, making his way to the stage with his guitar had caught my eye. He was wearing a black shirt, and he had this black, curly, long hair that gave him this chill vibe.

“Wassup Cebu Normal University!” A man with squinted eyes who was wearing a gray long sleeved top shouted, getting the crowd all excited. I figured; he must be the main vocalist.

They later performed their first song, “Antukin by Rico Blanco,” but my eyes stayed fixated on the guitarist who had rocked his head back and forth as he continued to play, making his hair move along with him. The music filled the atmosphere as the band played one song after the other, and I drowned along with it. The longer the guitarist played, the more visible his burning passion for playing became. He looked so consumed in the music and in what he was doing that it seemed like he was blocking out everything else that was happening around him as if the only thing that mattered to him was that moment alone. He was – remarkably playing from deep within himself. I began to wonder, what was he thinking about while he lost himself into the music?

Suddenly, my vision started to blur out. What is happening? I thought to myself. Confused, I decided to close my eyes for a moment but when I had open them up, I realized that I had somehow time traveled to the year 2020.

I found myself lying in bed, holding my phone in my hands. A chat head suddenly popped up; it was the man that played at the event a year ago! I quickly did a quick backread on our conversation and found out that I asked him about what he misses the most in the intramurals.

“Ang party ang pinakanamiss gyud nako siguro kay kato ra ang time nga naa koy nabuhat nga ganahan kayko, katong tukar namo didto,” he said.

I later began to ask more questions, hoping I’d be able to get an answer for my question a year ago. But as we continued to chat, I discovered something else. The man wasn’t just any regular student-guitarist, he was specifically a choir guitarist and he’d play in a church every now and then. I became more intrigued about his story and later found out that the band he played with that night didn’t even practice days prior to their performance due to the members’ busy schedules. They only practiced an hour before the actual performance and improvised.

He shared that when they performed, although no one really noticed, he had a hard time chasing and achieving the tone he wanted with the use of the gears he had, saying that he was limited to using a Stratocaster type guitar, and a overdrive pedal. He was also unfamiliar with the amp that they used, making him spend a lot of time dialing his tone. Despite the struggle, he says that he was able to deliver and that he didn’t really see it as an awful performance.  

Then came the question, “what were you thinking about when you played?” to which he simply replied, “I didn’t really know what was going on inside my mind during those times.”

With that being said, I closed my eyes for a few seconds and imagined myself on the night of the acquaintance party.

“Oy, di pa ka mu uli?” Ryan asked.

“Ha?” I replied.

“Humana ang performance oy,” he said.

“Ahh. Oo, mu uli na ko ron,” I replied.

Before leaving, I looked around for the guitarist, but when I finally saw him, he was already making his way to the exit.

“Maybe, I’ll never know what was going on in your head,” I say before silently walking away from the crowd. 

Oh, by the way, his name was Kaloy.