The Friendship I Didn't Ask For (But Here We Are 16 Years Later)

The Monica Geller to My Phoebe Buffay

He tells this story every time we meet someone new, so I think it's my turn to tell my version so I can tweak it however I want and exact the best revenge. On his birthday, no less.

Kidding aside, I think I remember exactly how we first met in spite of my rusty, almost cramped memory bank. You don't forget such a remarkable encounter. People like DJ Bea are like Monica to Phoebe in F.R.I.E.N.D.S.

On the episode where Monica finds out Phoebe tried to cut her out of her life at one point, Monica was upset and tried to confront Phoebe about it. Phoebe then explained that trying to cut her off was unsuccessful as she wanted to keep the friendship after all, emphasizing that Monica became a non-negotiable in her life despite still being shrill, controlling, and compulsive. She said Monica was the only person she tried to sever ties with who "clawed her way back in" every single time.

The Uninvited Guest

So how did we meet? To tell this story, a little trip down memory lane is required. And when I say you have to visualize the event, I mean VISUALIZE. INTERNALIZE. GET IN MY SHOES.

It was the first week of classes my sophomore year at university. I had completed the usual brief pleasantries with my old blockmates and ignored the new students. I had no plans of meeting new people, let alone make new friends. So I found an empty seat near the back of the room, took out a book to occupy my time before the professor comes in, and silently appreciated my classmates (at least the old ones from my freshman year) for letting me be my weird ass self as usual. I sat down and started reading. I was now on DND mode and everybody around me knew that.

It became a little too loud when someone boisterous entered the room. But I didn't look up, and I tried to look busier and more uninterested. I tried to cover my face and sink deeper into the chair.

None of that prevented this loud and crass transferee from another school to approach me. I totally felt some pairs of eyes looking our way, feeling secondhand awkwardness from knowing this person shouldn't be trying to come near me. But I tried to be nonchalant, expecting him to turn his back and go away after realizing it was an off-limits zone.

Well, he did not back off. He sat down on the chair next to me that someone unwittingly left vacant. I did not flinch until he started to talk. He said, "Hi! Anong binabasa mo?" (What are you reading?) I didn't answer. Instead, I held up my book and sarcastically showed him the book cover, hoping he was no reader and would anticipate zero chances of us talking again due to different interests.

Now when he tells the part about knowing my name, he might say I told him my name. But I frankly don't remember that. What I remember was he already asked somebody else in the room before coming to me.

He continued to talk some more, and I started to look more and more anxious and uncomfortable. He said something about my fashion style; I was wearing all black to essentially broadcast my grief to the world from losing my dad just two months prior. Now I almost don't want to share this next detail because it's a part of my past that I'm not proud of, but for the sake of storytelling, here you go.

A Broken Heart, A Broken Perception of the World

When I first saw him, I already knew I didn't want to be associated with him. I did have gay classmates whom I talked with, even hung out with, for school purposes. But during this time, I was not very open to having friendships with gay people. Hold your horses, I can explain. I was seventeen at the time – too idealistic, unforgiving, relentless in my ideals and socially-imposed values.

When I was fourteen, I was in love with this boy from school who liked me. He was my first love, if first love at fourteen is a thing. We didn't technically go out or anything, but whenever we were together (with other people), our hearts communicated. In short, we had a thing and although it was never official, we promised each other we'd be together at the right time. I was not allowed to have a boyfriend obviously. He didn't look at other girls; I didn't look at other boys until...

Without exposing the nitty gritty, I basically found out later on that he was in a relationship with an older gay person who was sending him to school and providing for him. I cried a river that day, and I never spoke to him again.

The Name I Didn't Want but Got Stuck With

Earth to reader... Now I'm almost seventeen and contemplating whether or not I should act on my prejudiced thoughts of not wanting to associate myself with gay people, especially this one who is so intrusive and is invading my personal space.

He talked about my nickname and thought it was plain and wasn't catchy enough. Without my permission, he just said I should be called Ajang. How he thought that was catchy and cool was a question mark to me. For the next three years, everyone and their mother all over the Mass Comm department called me Ajang. The branding was so on point that several of my professors also called me Ajang. Some of my relatives who didn't even go to the same school call me Ajang to this day. This loudmouth who I never wanted to get close to gave me a name I didn't ask for but got stuck with.

Today I have a special place in my heart for my nickname. So special I don't allow non-friends to call me it. At some point, I made a crazy rule that only those I've known for a long time and have been friends with can call me Ajang. So if you're reading this and we've been friends for a while now and I haven't told you, you can call me Ajang from now on. God knows the name needs a bit of a revival.

No Chance, No Choice

I'd be lying if I said I never regretted the weeks that followed after that first encounter. I did at first, but today I'm thankful for all of it. He talked to me every day, said hi whenever I passed by the dentistry college where he worked as a student assistant, introduced me to his transferee friends, included me in his meet-ups with other friend groups – all those getting-to-know efforts. Little did I know I would make lifetime friends out of those people I met through him. To this day, me, the OG UBian, and this little circle of uni transferees get together whenever we can (aka when it's convenient for ALL of us lol).

We've had more than our share of falling-outs, fights, and drama. It's crazy to think we're still friends today after all the sh!t each of us had to put up with regarding one another. Oh my God, trust me when I say ideally there shouldn't be more than one drama queen in any group. But if you manage to overcome the critical phase and get to a place where each drama queen's quirks no longer bother you as much, then you're lucky to be a part of that group. Keep them close. Life is short.

Sixteen Years Later

The unwelcome weirdo who appeared in my life sixteen years ago is not just DJ Bea to me. He is Jetley, Jet, Jetsung, Jet-pepet, Chikotita, Jetley Tejada Ibea. I still hate his guts sometimes and he still gets on my nerves once in a while. I still think big parts of us are complete opposites, and we still have the occasional banter. But let's say I was being held at gunpoint at a cliff somewhere in Urk where they filmed Descendants of the Sun and I was being asked the important question. As someone with an abiding tendency to think of pop culture references, I'd say what Phoebe said to Monica: "[He's] also so generous and kind and scrappy."

In reality, some of DJ Bea's best attributes are his generosity, loyalty, passion, and determination to hang on to what matters most to him. He's the life of the party. Maybe too much sometimes but that's what you sign up for when you decide to be his friend. He's the kind of friend who, even if it was his last 100 pesos, would treat you to lunch. You'd have to split the food but you won't go hungry. I learned a lot of budgeting tips and tricks from him when we shared an apartment for a short time, when I was the worst housemate ever. But that story is probably for another time.

We don't see each other often these days, nor do we talk all the time. But when we do, there's no telling what time we would finish or when it's time to go home. Home has become a place inside that I can take refuge in when I'm with him and our small crazy group.

Sometimes I can't believe my prejudice towards someone I viewed as compulsive, intrusive, vulgar, and mischievous turned into a long-term friendship. Maybe some people are meant to come into our lives at a time when we least expect it. No matter how many times we kick them out, we might find ourselves longing for their company when it matters. That's what extraordinary people can do. iDOL kunam man!