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Christmas season in the city feels like one long marathon—lights everywhere, holiday playlists looping non-stop, and the kind of grocery crowds that make you question your will to live. And tonight is not an exception. Siyempre, hindi mawawala ang mga last-minute shoppers na puno every aisle, mga grocery carts na nagcclash like bumper cars, samu’t saring chismisan, at ang simoy ng malamig na hangin na puno ng discounts, desperation, and holiday anxiety.
Sunoo takes a big and brave step of following another trend that is yet to discover kung effective ba o hindi. Well, the twelve grapes trend was not really a win on his end… so far, ha. Baka may pahabol pang plot twist before the year ends at makita ang effectivity rate nito, so why not try and try, until you succeed, diba?
“Good evening po, Sir!” Bati ni Manong Guard as Sunoo stands by the automatic doors of the grocery store, and he greets back happily to give back the fuzzy festive feels.
Loud beeps of scanners and the simultaneous “Next po!” welcomes him inside. But Sunoo remains focused on his goal as he takes a deep breath, immediately getting a cart of his own to shop then proceeds to an aisle of pineapples.
Well—an upside-down pineapple.
“This is it,” he whispers to himself like a contestant about to enter a game show. “Twelve grapes under the table last New Year’s, don’t fail me now.”
He still remembers the tradition: eat twelve grapes at the midnight of New Year for good luck, go under the table for love. Choking hazard? Yes. Duck, cover, and hold? Sure. Worth it? Supposedly. He did both. Dramatically and religiously. With full choreography. And he’s been waiting all year for the payoff.
He didn’t suffer through that for nothing.
And now that another trend has emerged: people who are looking for love should place an upside-down pineapple in their cart to signal that they're single and looking, and he’s about to work out the odds of something happening toward his status in love.
“Mangyayari ‘to,” he tells himself, flipping the pineapple one more time to ensure maximum visibility. “Manifesting with intent.”
Looking at him with both hesitation and support, Heeseung and Riki watch him like proud parents sending a child into kindergarten for the first time.
“Wow, nasunod talaga siya sa trend para lang sa pag-ibig ‘no,” Heeseung whispers habang napapakamot ng ulo.
“Or sabihin mo, major delulu alert,” Riki replies, sipping an iced coffee he absolutely didn’t pay for yet.
“Shh! ‘Wag niyo ijinx! Ito na ‘yun, I can feel it,” Sunoo shushes them, then pushes his cart into the sea of people, as the two follows him around.
And somewhere—three aisles over—another upside-down pineapple exists.
Jay stares awkwardly at his shopping cart as Yunjin flips the fruit with her expert hand flipping technique.
“Oh, ayan,” she declares. “Officially single and looking. Congratulations!”
“Alam mo, I don’t want to do this. Konting konti na lang, mahahambalos na kita with the pineapple itself,” Jay mutters, shaking his head in disbelief.
“You’re welcome, I guess?” Yunjin shrugs her shoulders as she beams as bright as she could.
Kazuha giggles as well while taking a snap of Jay’s cart. “It’s just for fun... unless?”
“Unless what?” Jay panics.
“Unless destiny,” Jungwon chimes in like a wise fairy godmother who also needs an all purpose cream for his Mango Graham Float, “plays a big role on your big day.”
Jay tries to look nonchalant, which is difficult when he’s pushing a cart with an upside down pineapple in a crowd like it’s an emotional support animal.
The grocery speakers suddenly play “Estranghero” by Cup of Joe. The soft guitar intro settles over the chaos like a spotlight—warm, nostalgic, a little hopeful. The timing feels weirdly cinematic.
Hindi alam kung bakit ba ‘ko nabighani sa iyo, hindi alam kung bakit ba ganto, kahit na alam kong—
Sunoo grips the handle of his cart, eyes flicking down for the fifth time to make sure the pineapple inside is still upside-down.
This is it, he thinks. This is literally the trend.
People ditching dating apps, bumping carts in real life, hoping for a meet-cute under fluorescent lights. A social experiment. A rebellion against swiping. Or, at the very least, something interesting to happen before the year ends.
As soon as Sunoo turns into the fruit aisle, steering carefully—and bumps straight into another cart.
Thunk. Not dramatic. Not violent. Just… obvious?
“Hala! Sorry—” Sunoo blurts out automatically, already preparing an apology speech, until he looks up.
The guy in front of him is tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired, and looks just as surprised as he feels. Hands still on the cart handle. Brows slightly furrowed. Like he didn’t expect to run into a human being tonight—let alone like this.
Then the guy’s gaze drops down to Sunoo’s cart. To the pineapple. Upside-down.
The guy blinks. Slowly looks down at his own cart. Also an upside-down pineapple.
He looks back up. “Did we just,” he says carefully, “do the… thing?”
Sunoo’s reddens as he feels his soul leaves his body in an instant.
“I—” he laughs too fast, too loud. “I mean—maybe? I wasn’t trying to—unless you were trying to—”
The guy exhales, half-amused, half-stunned. “Because I swear, I was just trying to get out of here alive. Fruit salad season is dangerous.”
Sunoo nods immediately. “Yes. Survival. Very platonic. Very… anti-romance.”
They just stand there. Carts still touching. No one moves.
Behind them, someone clears their throat.
“Ay,” a voice murmurs. “ Tignan mo, Madam. Ang cute naman.”
Sunoo glances back and nearly combusts when he sees a couple, maybe a bit older than him, at the end of the aisle—stylish, observant, clearly invested. One of them nudges the other like they’re watching a teleserye unfold in real time.
“Parang may shooting ng K-Drama, Bert, oh,” another whispers.
Sunoo wants the floor to swallow him whole.
Somewhere nearby, a guy’s voice cuts through. “Biancs, I think we just witnessed fate.”
“Weewee,” another voice shushing in return, “shut up ka nga! You’re disturbing their moment!”
Sunoo looks over and spots another couple: one animated, grinning like he just found content for his group chat, beside him a bubbly and kikay young lady whom mouthed an apology towards him.
The pineapple guy clears his throat again. “So. Uh.” He gestures vaguely between their carts. “Upside-down pineapple?”
Sunoo squeezes the handle. “Uhm, ano. It’s a trend—”
“I know,” the guy cuts him off respectfully. “My friends dared me.”
Sunoo’s eyes widen, hands up to his mouth. “Oh shit. Same.”
The said pineapple guy—Jay, his brain supplies helpfully, even though no one has introduced themselves—tilts his head, studying him now. Not in a creepy way. Just… curious. Like he’s trying to place a song stuck in his head.
“And you?” Jay asks. “Did it… work?”
Sunoo thinks of New Year’s Eve. Of crouching under a table, shoving grapes into his mouth while his friends counted down, whispering wishes into the floor. A whole year of almosts. Missed timings. People who didn’t stay.
He swallows. “Hmm… ‘Di ko pa sure eh,” he says honestly.
Jay smiles in return. Not teasing, not cocky. Just soft.
“Well,” he says, nudging his cart forward again, gentle this time. “Guess we did the trend right.”
Sunoo laughs, breathless. “Baliw.”
Oh, he thinks. The grapes and pineapples are so real.
They end up walking down the aisle together without really discussing it. Like their carts just… decided to go along like parallel lines.
Jay reaches for a canned milk. Sunoo reaches for the same one. Their fingers brush.
The holiday lights reflecting off the waxy fruit catch in Sunoo’s eyes. Jay blinks, startled but not pulling away. “Oh—sorry! You can have it.”
“No, no, ikaw na,” Sunoo says at the same time.
They stare at each other for half a second too long before Jay grabs one and hands it to him. Sunoo accepts it with both hands, like it’s ceremonial.
Get a grip, he tells himself. It’s canned milk.
Back at the cart, Sunoo tries to regain composure.
“So, you’re doing the pineapple thing,” he says softly as he looks at Jay.
Jay’s ears tint red, immediately feeling quite shy upon the comment. “Well, only for research purposes. And I was forced. Not until… things quite take a turn.”
“Ahh, scientific ka pala,” Sunoo teases. “Ako kasi… twelve grapes believer.”
Jay laughs. “Wait—seriously?”
“Uh-huh. Under the table pa nga ako!” Sunoo cackles. “For my supposedly 2025 goals, pero ayan, end of the year na, waley pa rin.”
Jay opens his mouth—but the grocery store erupts in chaos before he can comment.
As they go along the aisles, Jake and Sunghoon pass the two for the nth time.
“You see that?” Jake whispers loudly. “That’s chemistry.”
Sunghoon glances over, then back at Jake. “Focus on the groceries.”
“But—”
“Jake.”
Jake sighs. “Fine. But if they get married, I’m taking credit.”
Riki slams into them with his cart, Heeseung following like a guard on duty at the back as they skid across the place.
“Bro—move! There’s only one box left of my favorite cereal!” Riki yells.
“‘Wag mo ko hatakin—” Heeseung screeches, nearly elbowing a tower of spaghetti packs.
Sunoo covers his face in embarrassment. “Oh my God. They’re not usually like this.”
Jay looks at him.
Then at Riki dragging Heeseung through the aisle like it’s the Olympics.
Then back at Sunoo.
“You’ve got interesting friends.”
Before Sunoo can react, another background chaos strikes again. This time, courtesy of Kazuha, zooming past on a shopping cart like it’s a scooter, Yunjin chasing her with a bag of frozen siomai, with Jungwon calmly following them around.
Jay sighs, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t know them.”
Sunoo raises a brow as he giggles. “Are you sure?”
“Sadly, yes.” Jay answers in return before they burst out laughing.
As they walk, Sunoo laughs shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alam mo, minsan gusto ko na lang maging hotdog sa freezer. Tahimik lang. Walang expectations.”
Jay smiles—not the teasing kind, but something softer. Sincere. “They look fun, though.”
Sunoo glances back at the chaos: their friends tangled together, Yunjin shouting over the noise, Riki nearly crashing into a display, laughter from Jake and Sunghoon spilling too loud. “You think so?”
“Yeah,” Jay says. “Parang… kahit magulo, at least you’re not alone.”
The words settle between them, warm and unguarded.
Sunoo looks at him then, really looks. “Hindi ka ba sanay sa ganun?”
Jay shrugs lightly. “Hm. Sanay akong mag-isa.”
There’s no self-pity in it. Just honesty.
Sunoo nods, like he understands more than he expected to. “Oh,” he says, a little braver now, “welcome to the noise then.”
Jay lets out a quiet laugh. “Thanks. I think… I don’t mind it.”
Aisles pass with soft conversation.
Sunoo’s narration in his head: Okay okay okay, breathe, he’s cute, but not too obvious, be mysterious—
But then he trips, almost falling headfirst into the onions.
Jay catches his elbow gently. “Careful.”
Sunoo squeaks like a stressed guinea pig. Jay chuckles.
In Jay’s head: He’s adorable. Why is he adorable. Stop smiling like that.
Near the checkout, the line is long and unforgiving. People are tired. The cashier titas are fully in commentator mode now.
“Uy, in fairness, bagay sila,” one murmurs.
“Mga bata ngayon,” another replies fondly.
Sunoo unloads his groceries. Jay stands behind him. Close enough that Sunoo can feel his presence without turning around. It’s not uncomfortable. Just… new.
“By the way, before I forget,” Jay says quietly, “I’m Jay.”
Sunoo smiles to himself before facing him. “Sunoo.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jay adds, then pauses. “In a grocery store. Because of a fruit or a trend? Both.”
Sunoo laughs. “Honestly? I’ve met worse people in worse ways.”
Jay’s eyes crinkle. “Same.”
The cashier hands Sunoo his receipt with a knowing look. “Good luck,” she says.
Sunoo almost trips. He feels his face reddens once again. Is it the cold night? Or maybe something else.
Jay and Sunoo exit the store eventually—bags in their own hands, cold December air hitting their cheeks. The night is gold-lit by parols from street vendors, a little chaotic, a little magical.
They stand awkwardly outside, the world is quieter now.
Jay clears his throat. “So… since we matched pineapples—scientifically speaking—”
“Scientifically,” Sunoo nods, biting back a smile.
“Maybe… we could get hot chocolate?” Jay asks. “I know a small café around the corner.”
Sunoo’s shoulders rise, bashful. “Like… a date?”
Jay looks at the upside-down pineapple still in his grocery bag. Then at Sunoo.
“I guess the trend works,” he says softly. “At least… when it’s you.”
Sunoo’s heart jumps like a rice cooker button.
He exhales, breath fogging in the cold air. “Then… let’s go? My twelve grapes are finally doing their job.”
Jay laughs—warm, bright, real.
They walk side by side into the glittering December night, not quite strangers anymore.
Salamat, Sunoo thinks. At sa grapes din, I guess.
Sometimes, the universe doesn’t send signs.
Sometimes, it just bumps your cart at the right time.