Bab 5: SPECIAL CHAPTER
Tristan Fuentavilla, a young lad with the physique of a perfect lass—no trace of masculinity—and the unknown member of one of the affluent families, was an enigma.
He wasn't a homosexual nor a transvestite, but a living mirror of his twin sister—a reflection filled with envy.
As his sister, Trish Fuentavilla, embodied every woman's dream, Tristan became the epitome of the green-eyed monster. His beauty was consumed by insecurity; his eyes conveyed absolute acrimony, and his lips held unexpressed sentimentality.
What possibly made him like this?
None other than preferential treatment.
Ever since he was a child, he had never seen his mother, living instead with his workaholic father.
Young Tristan barely saw him around the house. He was always busy, day and night. They couldn't even spend much time together, not even during meals.
His parents had been separated for almost eight years, and his father never spoke about it. As a child, Tristan was always curious, his mind filled with questions. But he didn't intend to ask—he was simply waiting for an answer.
When he celebrated his tenth birthday, a woman and a young girl—just his age—showed up. They were introduced to him as his mother, Sharrie Fuentavilla, and his twin sister, Trish Fuentavilla.
That was when he realized they were a family again.
From that day on, he felt happy. They were happy. He saw his previously restless dad smile genuinely for the first time. The bond he had once thought was a mere fantasy unexpectedly came to life. Joyful days and carefree moments filled Tristan's emptiness and completed his lacking existence.
But their happiness didn't last long, for the pillar of their family, Timothy Fuentavilla, died just a few months later.
His father's death brought misery to all of them. He left not only heartache but also a huge amount of debt that had kept him working nonstop while still alive. Sharrie, their mother, nearly collapsed upon hearing the news.
Timothy was the youngest of the three sons from one of the richest families, the Fuentavillas. He had been a runaway, and Sharrie was blamed for it. Her love for Timothy had ruined their son. That was why their marriage had never been accepted by Timothy's parents, especially by his mother.
Despite all the embarrassment and hurtful words Sharrie had received from his family in the past, she swallowed her pride and shamelessly faced them with Tristan and Trish. She couldn't pay off all of Timothy's debt, nor could she sustain her children alone, so she needed help.
In any case, she was still his legal wife. She deserved recognition.
However, they did not expect the tables to turn in their favor. As soon as Timothy's mother—Lauren Fuentavilla—met her grandchildren, Trish won her heart immediately. In a flash, they were wholeheartedly accepted.
Tristan thought that day would mark the start of a new, happier life, and indeed, it was for them, but not for him.
Trish became the center of love. She was absolutely taken care of. Everybody in the mansion was drawn to her.
They would comb her hair, dress her well, and even giggle comfortably with her.
Tristan felt jealousy stirring within him.
Every time they gathered for meals, food was automatically offered to her without her asking, while Tristan had to struggle to reach food for himself.
When she got messy, she was cleaned up in an instant, while he would wait forever for someone to do it for him.
When he had a wound that needed five stitches, everyone calmly treated him, but when she had a scratch, everyone went into a panic.
When Trish got lost for two hours, Sharrie panicked and never stopped looking for her. But when Tristan got lost in the crowd and was found by midnight, he went home without his mother waiting for him in worry.
He was scared of the noisy crowd, but his fear was nothing compared to the pain he felt when he saw his mom peacefully sleeping while he was still missing.
On their fifteenth birthday, Tristan was happy when he received a gift from his mom. She smiled at him as she handed it to him. But his joy quickly evaporated when he saw his sister receive sweet kisses, warm hugs, and a beautifully wrapped gift from their mother.
He wanted that. He wanted that too—not the gift, but the caresses, the tender touch, the hugs, the kisses. The care.
He wanted to be loved, too.
A huge question kept running through his mind.
What was he lacking?
A few months later, Sharrie and Trish left their home, and not long after, they were featured in an interview about Trish's rising popularity.
Tristan could see the happiness in his mom's eyes as she proudly talked about his sister. The way she praised her and bragged about her in front of the interviewer made it clear that Sharrie truly loved her twin sister.
Melancholically, Tristan asked himself: What about him? He was her child, too, right? Wasn't he the kind of child she could brag about? Was he unworthy of her praise? Didn't he meet her standards to make her proud?
Sharrie came home a week later, alone. Trish had already begun her career as a model and was becoming famous.
Tristan thought he could finally bond with his mother in his sister's absence, but he was wrong. The gap between them only grew wider.
He could tell his mom missed his sister deeply.
Tristan's heart broke a million times when he heard the news that Sharrie had left for a "business trip." He knew she had left not for work, but to console her longing.
Realizing this, Tristan questioned his existence even more. Was he really nothing?
Was he not enough to ease her?
Why still her?
He was the one nearer, so why did she still look for someone farther away?
Was it because he wasn't her?
If that was the reason...
Then...
He wanted to be her.
Would he get love if he became like her? Would he be appreciated? Would their mother recognize him?
Despite all these questions, he did what he thought was right.
And yes, Tristan replicated Trish—they were identical twins, after all.
Months passed, and Sharrie finally came home. She was surprised when she bumped into Tristan at the doorstep. She said nothing except the name, "Trish?!"
"No, ma'am, it's Tristan," one of the maids said, which caused a disappointed look to form on her face.
Tristan thought everything would change when he looked like Trish, but no. He was still Tristan. He was not her, and would never be her.
Nonetheless, a glimmer of hope lit up his heart when his mother asked for a favor.
The way she looked at him. The way she spoke to him. Her voice, her tone—it warmed Tristan's heart. He wanted to feel that way again. So, without hesitation, he accepted and agreed to her favor.
He agreed to be Trish's proxy.
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