The Villain We Loved - CHAPTER 3: Enter Jay Armada

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The rumors started even before first period ended.

“Sino ‘yung bagong lalake sa faculty?”

“He’s not a prof daw… assistant lang.”

“Gwapo, bes. As in hindi ka makahinga levels.”

By the time the bell rang for lunch, most of the girls had already passed by the faculty room “by accident.” Giggles, whispers, even makeup touch-ups in the hallway mirrors—like something electric had entered their routine school day.

And Ruthie?

She didn’t care.

At least not until she saw him.

It happened at the library.

She was returning a book—The Prince by Machiavelli—when she turned a corner and saw him: tall, quiet, flipping through the school records with a look of absolute detachment.

Neat white polo. Black slacks. Plain wristwatch. No distractions.

Except his eyes.

They were focused, almost cold—until they looked up and locked with hers.

The silence stretched.

And then he smiled.

Just barely.

Like he knew something.

Like he remembered something.

Ruthie blinked. Do I know him?

He spoke first. “You’re Ruthie Villanueva.”

Not a question.

A statement.

Sharp. Clean. Like a scalpel.

She raised a brow. “And you are?”

“Jay. Professor Lucero’s assistant. Started today.”

She tilted her head. “What do you want?”

Jay gave a slow shrug. “Nothing.”

But he kept looking.

The next day, he showed up in her English class.

Not as a student.

Not as a teacher.

Just… there.

Sitting near the back, taking notes, quiet as smoke.

Ms. De Vera introduced him briefly.

“Mr. Jay Armada will be observing some of our classes. Please behave.”

Ruthie didn’t look at him.

Not until she caught him watching her when he thought she wasn’t.

After class, she cornered him near the fire exit.

“Why are you looking at me?” she asked, arms crossed.

Jay didn’t flinch. “Because you’re the only one in that room who doesn’t pretend.”

“Flattering,” she said dryly.

“But also dangerous.”

Ruthie stepped closer. “You think I’m dangerous?”

“I think you’re tired of hiding how dangerous you really are.”

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “And you? What are you hiding, Jay Armada?”

He didn’t answer.

But he didn’t walk away either.

That afternoon, Marian watched them from the second floor.

Jay and Ruthie by the stairs, faces close, eyes sharp.

“They’re flirting,” someone whispered beside her.

“No,” Marian said flatly. “She’s manipulating him.”

“Or he’s studying her.”

Marian’s jaw tightened.

“I don’t trust him.”

Later that week, Ruthie found a note in her locker.

Neat handwriting. Black ink. No name.

"You're not who they think you are. I see it. I remember."

She folded the note carefully, slipped it into her wallet, and didn’t tell a soul.

Because something in those words felt like a promise.

Or a threat.

Back in her room

She stared at the ceiling.

Ang daming galit sa kanya.

Joy was still crying in corners, pretending to be the victim.

Marian? Gathering sympathy like petals, building herself a garden of pity.

And now there was Jay.

Mister calm and unreadable.

But those eyes…

Those damn eyes that saw too much.

She remembered them.

Maybe not the face.

Maybe not the name.

But those eyes?

They were there before.

In the shadows of something she had tried so hard to forget.

Flashback – Years Ago

Rain. Screaming. A crowd. Blood on her knees.

And a boy.

A boy who didn’t run.

Who looked at her like she wasn’t a monster.

Even when everyone else did.

Present

She sat up, heartbeat fast.

Could it be him?

Jay Armada.

The boy who didn’t flinch.

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