I spent far too much time deciding what to wear.
It shouldn’t have been difficult.
I wasn’t going to a formal event, and Rosalie had already told me several times that her family wasn’t expecting anything special.
Still, I found myself standing in front of my closet, staring at the clothes hanging inside as if the answer were hidden somewhere between two old shirts.
A plain T-shirt seemed too casual.
A polo shirt looked too formal.
I pulled out one shirt, held it against myself, then put it back and reached for another.
After changing my mind several times, I finally settled on a clean, well-ironed shirt and a pair of dark pants.
Then I looked down at my shoes.
They were clean, but I wiped them again anyway.
When I was finally satisfied with my clothes, I moved on to my hair.
That turned out to be an even bigger problem.
I combed it into place, stepped back from the mirror, and examined my reflection.
A few strands were sticking up near the side, so I fixed them and looked again.
Better.
I waited a few seconds.
Then I fixed them again.
After several minutes, I finally realized I was still standing in front of the mirror.
I lowered the comb.
“This is ridiculous.”
I wasn’t trying to impress Rosalie’s family with expensive clothes.
I didn’t even have expensive clothes to begin with.
I just wanted to look presentable and make a good first impression.
That shouldn’t have been difficult.
Yet somehow, I had already spent nearly half an hour preparing.
I checked my collar, straightened my sleeves, and looked at myself one final time.
There.
Good enough.
I picked up my bag and headed downstairs.
My mother was in the kitchen when I entered.
She looked at me, then looked at the clock.
“You’re leaving already?”
“I don’t want to be late.”
She studied me for a moment.
“You look different.”
“Different?”
“You fixed your hair.”
I instinctively touched it.
My mother smiled.
“Are you going somewhere important?”
“I’m meeting Rosalie’s family.”
Her expression immediately changed.
“Oh.”
She wiped her hands on a cloth and looked me over again.
“Then don’t worry too much.
Just be respectful.”
“I know.”
“And don’t sit there looking so serious.
You’re meeting people, not attending an interview.”
I gave her a doubtful look.
“You didn’t see how many questions I prepared for.”
She laughed.
“Rafael, just answer honestly.”
That was easier said than done.
There were plenty of things I couldn’t exactly explain.
I couldn’t tell them that the money I had earned from my technical work was only the beginning.
I couldn’t tell them about my investments, the information I possessed, or the plans I was quietly building for the future.
But none of that mattered for this meeting.
They didn’t need to know everything about me.
They only needed to know that I respected Rosalie.
I left the house with that thought in mind.
By the time I reached Rosalie’s home, I had already gone through several possible questions in my head.
How did we meet?
What were my intentions?
What did I do after school?
How much money did I earn?
What did my parents think?
Why had I bought Rosalie a phone?
I had answers for most of them.
At least, I thought I did.
Rosalie was waiting outside with her mother when I arrived.
She spotted me immediately and smiled.
Her eyes moved over my clothes before settling on my face.
“You dressed up.”
I looked down at myself.
“This is normal.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“It is.”
She smiled wider.
“You even fixed your hair.”
I resisted the urge to touch it again.
Her mother gave me an amused look.
“Come inside, Rafael.”
“Good afternoon, ma’am.”
I greeted her properly before following them inside.
The moment I entered the living room, I realized Rosalie had failed to mention one important detail.
There were more people waiting for me.
Her father was sitting on one side of the room.
He lowered the volume of the television and looked at me with a calm expression that somehow made me more nervous than an obvious interrogation would have.
Her older brother was sitting nearby, and unlike his father, he wasn’t even trying to hide his amusement.
A younger sibling was also there, watching me with open curiosity.
I looked at Rosalie.
She gave me a small, apologetic smile.
“You said your mom wanted to meet me.”
“She did.”
“You didn’t say your entire family would be here.”
“I thought you’d be less nervous if I didn’t tell you.”
I stared at her.
She looked away, trying not to laugh.
So this was how it was going to be.
Her mother gestured toward an empty chair.
“Sit down, Rafael.”
I took the seat across from her parents while Rosalie sat beside me.
For the first few moments, nobody said anything.
The silence wasn’t exactly hostile, but it wasn’t comfortable either.
Her older brother finally broke it.
“So you’re Rafael.”
“Yes.”
He nodded thoughtfully.
“I’ve heard a lot about you.”
I glanced at Rosalie.
She immediately shook her head.
“I didn’t tell him anything embarrassing.”
Her brother laughed.
“You didn’t have to.
Mom noticed everything.”
“Kuya.”
“What?
It’s true.”
Her mother gave him a warning look before turning her attention back to me.
“Rafael, don’t mind him.
We just want to get to know you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her father finally spoke.
“How long have you and Rosalie known each other?”
I explained how we had met at school and how we’d gradually started spending more time together.
I kept the story simple, though Rosalie occasionally interrupted when her brother tried to exaggerate something.
“And how long have you been dating?” her mother asked.
“A few weeks.”
Her father nodded.
“Does your family know?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What do they think?”
“My mother likes Rosalie.”
Rosalie smiled.
Her brother leaned forward.
“Already?”
“My mother has met her several times.”
“And your father?”
“He’s met her too.”
Her brother nodded slowly.
“Interesting.”
Rosalie frowned at him.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“It doesn’t sound like nothing.”
He grinned.
The conversation continued, gradually becoming less intimidating.
They asked about school, my grades, what subjects I liked, and what I wanted to do after graduation.
I told them I was interested in science and engineering and that I wanted to continue studying in that direction.
Her father seemed particularly interested in that.
“You’re serious about engineering?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What made you interested in it?”
I thought for a moment.
“I like understanding how things work.
When I see a machine or a device, I usually want to know why it works the way it does and whether it could be improved.”
“That sounds like a useful interest.”
Her older brother looked at me.
“So you can fix things?”
“Some things.”
“Can you fix my phone?”
I laughed.
“What happened to it?”
“Nothing.
I just wanted to see if you’d say yes.”
Rosalie shook her head.
“Don’t listen to him.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
Her mother smiled at the exchange.
The atmosphere was becoming easier.
Then she asked about my work.
“What do you do after school?”
“I tutor Clara Villareal, and sometimes I work on technical projects.”
“Technical projects?”
“Yes, ma’am.
Mostly engineering-related work.”
“How did you get those opportunities?”
“Someone I helped introduced me to another person who needed technical assistance.”
That was true enough.
Her mother nodded, but her eyes remained observant.
“And you earn money from that?”
“Yes.”
Her father looked at me.
“How much?”
The question came so naturally that I almost smiled.
There it was.
The financial question.
I kept my expression calm.
“It depends on the project.”
“How much do you usually make?”
I gave him a reasonable range based on my tutoring and smaller jobs, without mentioning the larger deals I had made.
“It’s enough for some personal expenses and to help my family.”
Her father seemed satisfied with the answer.
Her mother, however, suddenly remembered something.
“The phone.”
Rosalie stiffened beside me.
I knew exactly where this was going.
“You bought her a phone?”
I nodded.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Why?”
“She needed one.
I had enough money to help her get it.”
Her mother looked at Rosalie.
“You told me you saved for it.”
Rosalie looked embarrassed.
“I did save some.”
Her mother looked back at me.
“And you paid for the rest?”
“Yes.”
Her father leaned back slightly.
“How much was it?”
Rosalie looked like she wanted the floor to open beneath her.
I answered honestly.
“I don’t remember the exact amount.”
Her older brother laughed.
“You’re already protecting her.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“It sounds like it.”
I glanced at Rosalie, who was now hiding a smile.
Her mother sighed.
“I’m not angry that you helped her.
I just want to make sure you understand that gifts can create expectations.”
“I understand.”
“And I don’t want Rosalie feeling like she owes you anything.”
“She doesn’t.”
My answer came immediately.
“I gave it to her because I wanted to help.
I don’t expect anything in return.”
The room became quiet for a moment.
Her mother looked at me carefully before nodding.
“Good.”
That was probably the first time I felt like I had answered a question correctly.
Then her brother ruined the moment.
“So, does that mean I can ask you for a phone too?”
“Yes?”
He laughed.
Rosalie covered her face with one hand.
“I told you not to encourage him.”
The conversation became lighter again.
They asked about my siblings and my parents.
I explained that my father worked as a janitor and my mother did laundry work.
I spoke about Edmund, Joey, Lucy, and Lecia, and Rosalie occasionally added details because she had met them several times by then.
Her family seemed surprised when they heard how much responsibility I carried at home.
“You help your parents financially?” her father asked.
“When I can.”
“At your age?”
I nodded.
“I don’t mind.”
He studied me for a moment.
“You seem to take family seriously.”
“I do.”
That answer was simple enough that I didn’t need to elaborate.
Her father nodded.
Then came the question I had been expecting since I sat down.
“What are your intentions toward my daughter?”
Rosalie immediately turned toward him.
“Dad.”
“What?”
“You don’t have to ask it like that.”
Her father looked at her.
“If I’m going to let my daughter date someone, I think I have the right to ask.”
Rosalie fell silent.
I understood where he was coming from.
I took a moment before answering.
“I care about her.
I want to treat her properly, and I don’t want to do anything that would hurt her.
We’re still young, so I don’t want to pretend I know exactly what the future will look like.
But I take our relationship seriously.”
Her father watched me for several seconds.
Then he nodded.
“That’s a reasonable answer.”
I felt some tension leave my shoulders.
Her brother noticed.
“You were really nervous about that one.”
“I wanted to answer properly.”
“You looked like you were taking an exam.”
Rosalie started laughing.
I looked at her.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“A little.”
Her mother shook her head.
“You two.”
The interrogation eventually gave way to dinner.
That was when I realized the entire meeting had been less about testing me and more about letting the family understand who I was.
They were protective of Rosalie, but they weren’t trying to push me away.
They wanted to know whether I treated her well.
That was something I could answer without hesitation.
Before I left, Rosalie’s mother packed some food for me to bring home.
“Give this to your mother.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Her father walked me to the door.
“Take care of Rosalie.”
“I will, sir.”
He gave me a firm handshake before letting go.
Her older brother appeared behind him.
“We’re still watching you.”
I smiled.
“I expected that.”
“Good.”
Rosalie followed me outside.
Once we were far enough from the house, she finally laughed.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re not.”
She laughed harder.
“I really am.”
“You’re enjoying this.”
“Maybe.”
We continued walking.
After a moment, she looked at me.
“You really spent that long choosing your clothes?”
I looked at her.
“How did you know?” Find the original chapter at g.com.
“You changed your shirt twice.”
“You were counting?”
“I was waiting for you.”
I sighed.
“I wanted to make a good impression.”
“You did.”
I glanced at her.
“Really?”
She nodded.
“My mom likes you.”
“That sounds promising.”
“She also thinks you’re hiding something.”
I stopped walking for half a second.
Rosalie laughed.
“I’m joking.”
“You’re terrible.”
She slipped her hand into mine.
“But you looked cute when you were nervous.”
“I wasn’t nervous.”
“You spent five minutes fixing your hair.”
“That was unrelated.”
“Of course.”
We continued walking, hand in hand.
For the first time since she had told me about the meeting, I finally felt relaxed.
The worst part was over.
Or at least, I hoped it was.
By the time I returned home, the sun was already beginning to sink.
I gave the food to my mother, who immediately asked how the meeting had gone.
“They were nice.”
“That sounds like you survived.”
“I did.”
She laughed.
I went upstairs, changed into something more comfortable, and sat down at my desk.
My second-hand laptop was already waiting where I had left it.
The moment I opened it, my attention shifted from family matters to numbers.
I opened the investment spreadsheet.
The first investment was now officially closed.
The figures were exactly where I had expected them to be.
Initial capital: ₱900,000.
Final value: ₱2,700,000.
Gross profit: ₱1,800,000.
Adrian’s twenty-percent share: ₱360,000.
My net profit: ₱1,440,000.
Including the original capital returned to me, I now had ₱2.34 million from that investment.
I leaned back and looked at the number.
Three weeks ago, ₱900,000 had been sitting in an investment that most people would have considered too risky.
Now it had become ₱2.7 million.
I transferred Adrian’s share according to our agreement and updated the records.
A message arrived almost immediately.
Adrian: Received.
A second message followed.
Adrian: I still can’t believe this worked.
I smiled before replying.
Me: Get used to it.
His response came a few seconds later.
Adrian: That’s exactly what worries me.
I laughed quietly.
He wasn’t wrong.
The first investment had gone exactly as planned, but I didn’t want to become dependent on individual opportunities that only worked because I knew what would happen.
Eventually, I needed something larger.
Something that could generate money without requiring me to constantly reach into the future for answers.
I opened another file.
The second investment was already underway.
I had allocated ₱1.5 million to it, leaving the rest of my capital divided between emergency funds, family expenses, research, and future projects.
Unlike the first investment, I wasn’t expecting an immediate return.
That was intentional.
I wanted Adrian to learn how to manage money properly, not simply follow instructions and wait for me to tell him what would happen next.
More importantly, I wanted to start building a financial structure that could survive without me personally handling every transaction.
I opened a new spreadsheet.
At the top, I typed:
LONG-TERM BUSINESS PLAN
For several seconds, the page remained empty.
Then I started typing.
Technology.
Energy storage.
Advanced electronics.
Research and development.
The list slowly expanded.
The battery project with Mr.
Villareal had given me something more valuable than money.
It had shown me that I could turn technical knowledge into a product people were willing to pay for.
But selling individual designs wasn’t enough.
If I continued working that way, I would always be trading my time and knowledge for money.
I needed a company.
A real one.
It didn’t have to be large at the beginning.
In fact, starting small would probably be safer.
The first objective could be something relatively simple: develop useful technology, sell it, reinvest the earnings, and gradually build a research and development team.
Eventually, the company could fund the laboratory I actually wanted.
I added another section to the spreadsheet.
Initial Requirements
Workspace.
Computers.
Electronic components.
Testing equipment.
Power systems.
Manufacturing access.
Storage.
Research personnel.
I stopped typing.
There was one problem.
Money.
I had more than I had ever expected to have at this point in my life, but when I looked at the list, it suddenly didn’t seem like much.
A proper laboratory could consume millions before it produced anything significant.
I wasn’t discouraged.
It simply meant I needed to approach it differently.
I didn’t need to build the laboratory all at once.
I could build the financial foundation first.
Then the company.
Then the equipment.
Then the laboratory.
Each step would support the next.
I opened another folder containing my records from the battery project and reviewed the technical notes.
There were several ideas I wanted to explore once I had access to better equipment, but most of them would have to wait.
For now, I had school.
Training.
Tutoring.
Investments.
And a growing list of responsibilities.
I saved the spreadsheet and closed it.
My phone vibrated on the desk.
It was a message from Rosalie.
Rosalie: My mom said you can come over again.
I stared at the message.
Another message appeared.
Rosalie: She also said you’re welcome to eat dinner with us next time.
I smiled.
Then another message arrived.
Rosalie: And my brother said he’ll prepare more questions.
I leaned back in my chair.
Apparently, the interview wasn’t over yet.
I typed my reply.
Me: Tell him I’ll prepare too.
Her response came almost immediately.
Rosalie: You mean you’ll prepare another list?
I laughed.
Me: Maybe.
A few seconds later, she sent a laughing emoji.
I put the phone down and looked at the closed laptop.
The day had been strange.
I had spent the morning worrying about clothes, the afternoon answering questions from Rosalie’s family, and the evening planning how to turn a growing amount of money into something much larger.
It wasn’t exactly the kind of day I had expected.
But things were moving forward.
My finances were growing.
My training was improving.
My relationship with Rosalie was becoming more serious.
And for the first time, the idea of building my own company no longer felt like some distant ambition.
It had become another item on the list.
I opened the laptop again.
Under the business plan, I added one final line.
First step: Find a suitable company structure.
Then I saved the file.
There was still a long way to go.
But at least I had finally started putting the pieces together.