“isawsaw mo na,” peter cajoled. “matagal ka nang curious, ‘di ba? dali na! isawsaw mo na!”

noel didn’t know what to do. he could back out, but that would make him look like a wuss. on the other hand, going through with what his friends were asking of him—it could wreck him.

well, not literally. but—

noel squared off his shoulders, took a deep breath, and dipped his shrimp tempura into the spicy concoction his friends made. it was a mixture of bagoong, fish guts, chopped chili and a huge helping of wasabe. noel knew it was suicide.

he didn’t know how right he was.

noel was planning to just daintily dip the shrimp tempura. but his friend peter caught his hand and pushed it down the spicy gunk.

“you asshole,” noel grumbled. looking at the dripping tempura, noel knew it was his last chance to back out.

”su-bo! su-bo! su-bo!” his friends chanted. the other patrons of the bar they were in were starting to get curious. a few of them threw glance their way. noel was sweating now.

his friends had all done it. what was the worst thing that could happen? noel took another deep breath. mustering all his strength, he took the dripping tempura from the dip and popped it into his mouth.

the whole thing.

noel didn’t bother savoring the taste. it was disgusting. it was exactly how it smelled like: rotten and disgusting. noel swallowed. his friends cheered.

and then he choked.

immediately, peter and the others stopped cheering. they looked at him expectantly, hoping that noel was just joking. dreading that reality of the situation.

eyes brimming with tears, noel pointed at his throat. peter handed him a bottle of beer, someone else tried to catch the waiter’s attention for a glass of water, and some medical assistance.

one of noel’s friends actually shouted, “is there a doctor in the house?”

no one replied of course.

when the waiter came, noel’s face was already blue. he was already gone.