I'm The King of Business & Technology in the Modern World

December 31, 2021.

For the first time in over a year, Matthew Borja had nothing urgent to do. No strategy meetings, no last-minute crises, no calls from investors or partners demanding his attention.

For the first time in a long time, he was home.

The scent of freshly cooked bulalo and garlic fried rice filled the Borja household. His mother, Teresa, moved around the kitchen, expertly preparing their New Year's Eve meal, while his father, Ramon, sat in the living room, flipping through TV channels. His younger brother, Marco, was at the dining table, scrolling through his phone, one hand absentmindedly dipping a piece of chicharon into vinegar.

Matthew leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching them. It was rare for him to slow down long enough to appreciate these moments.

"You know," he said, smirking, "most people go out for New Year's Eve."

His mother, without even looking up, shot him a sharp glance. "And most people don't disappear for months at a time, either. You, anak, are staying home tonight. No excuses."

Marco snickered, still glued to his screen. "She's got a point, Kuya. You've been buried in work so long, I almost forgot what you looked like."

Matthew chuckled, pushing off the doorframe. "If I were an AI program, would I be able to do this?" He reached over and stole a piece of lechon kawali from Marco's plate.

Marco groaned. "Mom, Kuya's stealing food again!"

Teresa finally turned from the stove, wooden spoon in hand, and pointed it at Matthew. "You sit down and eat properly, or I'll make you cook next year's feast."

Matthew held up his hands in surrender, grinning as he took a seat at the table. It felt good to be back—to be surrounded by something that wasn't holograms, data models, or reports.

His father, Ramon, finally spoke up. "It's good to have you home, son. But tell me, how much longer before work calls you back?"

Matthew sighed, setting down his spoon. "I'm taking a break. At least for the night."

Teresa scoffed. "We'll see how long that lasts."

Marco smirked. "Yeah, I give it two hours tops before someone calls him with an 'emergency.'"

Matthew shook his head but didn't argue. They weren't wrong.

As the family ate, the television in the background continued cycling through New Year's Eve programming—music performances, countdown updates, and celebratory segments. Then, in between the festivities, a commercial break cut in.

"With the 2022 elections fast approaching, candidates are making their final push to reach the Filipino people…"

Matthew looked up just as a campaign ad played on the screen. A well-dressed man stood before a crowd, shaking hands, smiling, making promises.

"A better future is within our grasp! A future where every Filipino can prosper, where businesses thrive, and where we take back control of our economy!"

The crowd cheered, waving banners and flags.

Marco, noticing Matthew's focus, set his phone down and leaned back. "Election season is officially in full swing, Kuya."

Matthew raised an eyebrow. "It's already starting?"

His father, Ramon, nodded. "It's been going on for months, but now that it's 2022, things are heating up."

The commercial ended, and the news cut to live footage of campaign rallies happening in different parts of the country.

One candidate stood on a stage, microphone in hand, speaking with calculated energy.

"The people deserve a leader who understands their struggles! A leader who will fight for fairness, for justice, and for the future of this great nation!"

The screen shifted to another candidate, this one in a business suit, addressing a smaller but more composed audience.

"We must embrace progress. We must take control of our own economy, build industries, and move forward with technology. The world is advancing, and we must advance with it!"

Matthew watched, but said nothing.

Teresa sighed. "Every election, it's the same promises. They always say they'll make things better."

"Some of them mean it," Ramon said, though his tone was skeptical. "But power changes people."

Marco smirked, grabbing another piece of chicharon. "Well, we've got three more months of these speeches. Get ready."

Matthew exhaled. He had been so focused on work that he hadn't paid attention to the shifting political landscape. But now, as he watched the footage of thousands of Filipinos rallying behind their chosen candidates, he realized that this election was going to be a defining one.

Whether for better or worse, change was coming.

The Borja family finished dinner just as the countdown to midnight reached its final hour.

The streets outside were alive with excitement—neighbors setting up fireworks, children running around with sparklers, music blasting from houses up and down the street.

Matthew stepped out onto the balcony, the cool night air brushing against his face. From where he stood, he could see the lights of Manila's skyline, glowing against the night.

Marco joined him, leaning on the railing. "Feels different this year, huh?"

Matthew nodded. "Yeah. It does."

His brother smirked. "Bet you weren't expecting to spend the last day of the year watching campaign speeches, huh?"

Matthew chuckled. "Not exactly."

Marco glanced at him. "You think things will actually change?"

Matthew thought about it. The country was on the verge of something big—he could feel it. But whether that change would be for the better or worse… that was something no one could predict.

"We'll see," he finally said.

At that moment, the clock hit 11:59 PM.

Fireworks erupted across the sky, bright colors reflecting against the cityscape. The sound of cheers, laughter, and celebration filled the air.

Inside the house, their parents called them back in, insisting on the traditional media noche feast—grapes for prosperity, round fruits for luck, and a table full of food to welcome abundance in the new year.

Matthew took one last glance at the city before stepping back inside.

Tomorrow, 2022 would begin.

The world would keep moving, new challenges would arise, and change—whether welcome or not—would come.

But tonight?

Tonight, he was just Matthew Borja.

And he was home.