Ella: Yeah. She has a son and a daughter. Both live abroad, both doing well… but they don't contact her. Not even once. Now they don't even pick up her calls. She's always anxious, waiting for them.
Damian (shakes his head, frustrated): What kind of children are they? She should abandon them.
Ella (quietly, looking down): At this age, parents don't abandon kids. It's kids who abandon their parents.
Damian (serious): That's… wrong.
Ella (sighs): Yeah. It is. But what can we do?
(Grandma slowly opens her eyes and looks at Ella.)
Grandma: So… I'm not in heaven? (sassy)
Ella: What are you trying to say, I'm a devil? (annoyed)
Grandma: No, you're a demon sucking my soul.
Ella: Oh, come on.
Grandma: And who's this? (noticing Damian) You should've stayed asleep—why disturb your nap?
Damian: Nap?
Grandma: Look at your messy hair.
Damian: (confused, then realizing) Oh… it's not messy, Grandma. It's a haircut.
Grandma: Hmph. Today's generation does anything and calls it a trend. (sits up slightly)
Ella: How are you feeling?
Grandma: What do you think?
Damian: …Good?
Grandma: After opening my eyes to a demon and a nap-boy, I'm disappointed. I'm not dead.
Ella: (angrily) Why do you want to die?
Grandma: Because I want to see my expiry date. I've already lived a long life.
Damian: But isn't that the good part—that you are still living a long life?
Grandma: (squints at him) Wait… I've seen you somewhere. Oh! Cry boy!
Ella: Cry boy? What's that supposed to mean?
Damian: (quickly, thinking of something to change the subject) Nothing.
Grandma: You two are the same—always in a hurry, angry, and clumsy.
Damian & Ella (together): Me? Like her/him? No, never!
Grandma: See? Exactly.
Ella: I'm not like that.
Damian: I've never been angry in my life.
Ella: Oh wow, really? (sarcastic)
Damian: Yeah, not like you.
Ella: What? I never get angry! (already annoyed)
Damian: (raises both hands, points at her with raised eyebrows and a witty smile) Look.
Ella: Ugh, whatever, I'm going.
Grandma: Thank God.
Ella: To the washroom! I was sitting straight for two hours waiting for you to wake up. (storms off, annoyed)
(Damian can't help but smile as he watches her leave. Grandma notices.)
Grandma: (smirks) You like her, don't you?
Damian: Who? Me? No… (hesitates)
Grandma: Look at yourself. You can't lie to me.
Damian: I'm not lying. (folds his arms, turns his head, annoyed)
Grandma: What are you two, long-lost siblings?
Damian: Siblings? Don't confuse me!
Grandma: You like her. And that's the truth.
(Damian's expression shifts—caught between realization and denial.)
Damian: …I don't know. (quietly, almost to himself)
Damian: I don't even know a thing about her. How can I like someone I don't even know properly?
Grandma: But you know she's kind.
Damian: Yeah… sometimes witty too.
Grandma: She's an active volcano.
Damian: (smiles faintly) Yeah… but still, she looks cute.
Grandma: (squints at him) Boy, I think you don't even know yourself.
Damian: I don't know her parents, her family, or any friends—except one. And you.
Grandma: She has a brother and parents living in the main town. She doesn't meet them often, but she loves them.
Damian: How do you know that?
Grandma: She calls me her grandmother. How could I not know about my own grandchild? You should talk to her… clear your feelings.