NOVEL NEXT Chapter 3: Signs of Legitimacy
Matthew was woken by the sharp buzz of his phone alarm vibrating against the nightstand. Groggy, he reached over and silenced it, blinking at the faint light streaming through the window. It was 8 a.m., and the cheap curtains barely kept the morning sun at bay.
Stretching, Matthew sat up and rubbed his temples. For a moment, he forgot where he was, the sparse room a far cry from the suffocating familiarity of his family's condo. Then it all came rushing back—the USB, the pills, the lotto ticket tucked safely in his wallet.
His phone buzzed again, not from the alarm this time. He glanced at the screen to see a barrage of notifications: missed calls and texts from his mother, father, and brother.
Mom:
Matthew, where are you? Come back home, we need to talk.
Dad:
If you're trying to prove a point by leaving, grow up. Call us now.
Brother:
You seriously left? Don't be dramatic. Dad's pissed, but he didn't mean it like that. Just come back.
Matthew stared at the messages, his jaw tightening. They didn't mean it? He scoffed. His father had made it painfully clear—he was thrown out, no longer welcome. Now they wanted him back? Likely to scold him further or control his life again. The thought of returning filled him with cold anger.
"Commit to it," he muttered under his breath. "If you're going to throw me out, then mean it."
With that, he opened his social media app and deactivated his Facebook account. Then he blocked his family's numbers with swift, decisive taps. He felt a sense of liberation, cutting the ties that had bound him to their expectations.
After that, he thought of something to pass the time. After all, it's still 12 hours until the lotto results come in. One thought was to spend it on the internet cafe and play League of Legends.
That was it! Matthew decided to head to the nearest internet café. Before leaving, he grabbed the complimentary toothbrush and toothpaste provided by the motel and freshened up. The lukewarm shower from the slightly rusty bathroom faucet helped him shake off the lingering sleepiness. He dressed quickly, slung his bag over his shoulder, and locked the room behind him.
The internet café wasn't far. A bustling corner shop with a neon-lit sign that read "Cyber Zone Cross."
Inside, rows of computers were occupied by gamers immersed in their own battles. The sounds of clicking mice and keyboards filled the room, accompanied by muffled shouts of victory and frustration.
Matthew approached the counter. "How much for nine hours?"
"One hundred-twenty pesos," the attendant replied.
Matthew handed over the money and received a slip with a computer number and password. He made his way to the assigned station and there, he played League of Legends for nine hours, with occasional bathroom breaks and snacks. He won all of his games by carrying his teammate harder, but partly thanks to the pill that still hasn't worn off until 7pm, and as the clock neared nine o'clock, he switched to a new tab on Google and browsed the lottery results page. His heart pounded in anticipation as the page refreshed, and the winning numbers for the 6D lottery were displayed:
0-7-9-8-9-7.
The exact sequence printed on his ticket.
"I fucking won–!"
Matthew cheered but immediately quieted himself down to prevent unwanted attention.
His fingers flew across the keyboard as he typed "how to claim 6D lottery winnings PCSO" into the search bar. Within seconds, a list of instructions and guidelines appeared on the screen. It was a long list but in short, he had to travel to Mandaluyong, which is the main office of the PCSO, and then the website emphasized that the ticket should be kept in pristine condition and that claimants should sign the back of the ticket for security purposes.
Matthew pulled the ticket from his wallet and grabbed a pen from the internet café counter. He carefully signed the back of the ticket.
***
A day later, he went first thing in the morning to the PCSO main office and the guard blocked him on the entrance.
"What's your purpose for visiting?"
Matthew hesitated for a moment, then replied confidently, "I'm here to claim my winnings from the 6D lottery."
The guard raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Do you have your ticket and IDs?"
"Yes," Matthew said, pulling the ticket and his IDs from his wallet.
The guard inspected them briefly and stepped aside. "Go to the Prize Claiming Unit on the second floor. Take the elevator on your right. Good luck."
Matthew thanked the guard and entered the building. He followed the directions to the elevator, pressing the button for the second floor.
At the second floor, it was easy to navigate as there were signages.
Matthew followed the signs to the Prize Claiming Unit, where a modest line of hopeful individuals stood waiting. Above the counters, digital displays flickered with the numbers of tickets being processed. He clutched his ticket and IDs tightly, his palms slightly sweaty despite the air conditioning.
Approaching the counter for large prize claims, he was greeted by a woman wearing a neat blazer and a name tag that read Marissa.
"Good morning," she said with a polite smile. "May I have your ticket and two valid IDs?"
Matthew handed over his items, his heart pounding as Marissa scrutinized the ticket using a special type of machine.
She then typed into her computer, her expression neutral.
After a moment, she glanced up, her smile widening. "Congratulations, Mr. Borja. Your ticket has been verified, and you've won PHP 3,756,772. Please fill out this form, and we'll process your prize."
The validation brought a wave of relief, but it didn't fully settle in—I actually won.
He filled out the form with his details, carefully writing his bank information and signing where necessary. When he returned the form, Marissa examined it before speaking again.
"Everything seems to be in order. Your winnings will be transferred to your account within two to three banking days. Here's your receipt of the claim. Please keep this for your records."
Matthew accepted the receipt, glancing at the official stamp that made it feel real.
"Thank you."