The driver… was her father. Mang Ricardo.
He was wearing a polo shirt, with a towel around his neck, and holding a phone mounted on the dashboard displaying Trina’s booking.
The name on the app: “Ric” (short for Ricardo).
“D-Dad?!” Trina screamed. “H-how… why…?”
Mang Ricardo slowly turned toward her. His face wasn’t angry—it was tired. Deeply tired.
“So…” Mang Ricardo began in a low voice, “you’re going to Club Xylo? And you have a date?”
“Dad, let me explain!” Trina panicked. “I thought you were asleep! Why are you driving? Aren’t you an accountant?”
Mang Ricardo sighed.
“Trina, my office salary isn’t enough for your tuition next semester. So every night, when you and your mother are asleep, I drive. I work as a ride-hailing driver at night so I can pay for your education and the things you want.”
Reality hit Trina like a slap.
While she was sneaking out to have fun and spend money at bars, her father was staying up late, exhausting himself, and driving strangers around just so she could live comfortably.
“Dad…” Trina cried. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“That’s why you smell like perfume,” Mang Ricardo said with a sad smile. “You’re wearing a dress too. My daughter has really grown up—choosing dates over rest.”
Mang Ricardo started the engine.
“Alright, I’ll take you there,” he said.
“Huh? Where, Dad? Home?” Trina asked.
“No. To Club Xylo. You booked a ride. You’re my customer now. I need to be professional so my rating won’t go down.”
Mang Ricardo began driving. The car was silent. With every passing minute, Trina’s heart broke more as she stared at her father’s reflection—his white hair, the sweat on his neck, and his yawns from exhaustion.
As they neared Club Xylo, Trina saw her friends and Kenzo waiting outside—laughing, colorful, loud.
But then she looked back at her father.
“We’re here, Ms. Trina,” Mang Ricardo said formally, hiding his sadness. “Enjoy your date.”
Trina held the door handle. She looked outside, then back at her father.
“Dad,” she said softly. “Change destination, please.”
“Huh? Where to?”
“To Jollibee Drive-Thru. Then… let’s go home.”
Mang Ricardo turned to her. “Why? Your date is waiting.”
Trina wiped her tears and smiled.
“Because, Dad, I realized something. The best date I could have tonight isn’t the guy waiting for me at the club—it’s the man who stays up late and drives for my future.”
Trina moved from the backseat to the front passenger seat and held her father’s hand.
“Dad, I’m sorry. From now on, I won’t sneak out anymore. And I’ll help you save.”
Mang Ricardo smiled. The exhaustion faded from his face.
“Alright, my child. But you’re treating me to Chickenjoy, okay? Papa’s hungry.”
“Yes, Dad! Using the allowance you gave me!”
The car pulled away from the club. Trina left behind the party, the alcohol, and the boyfriend—to spend the night with the true “First Love” of her life: her hardworking father.
The club date was cancelled, but the father-and-daughter bonding earned a perfect 5-star rating.
That night, Trina lay awake in her room, staring at the ceiling, listening to the familiar sounds of her father quietly preparing for work the next morning. For the first time, those sounds no longer felt ordinary—they felt heavy with sacrifice.
From that day on, Trina stopped sneaking out. She turned down late-night parties and learned to say no to things she didn’t truly need. Sometimes, she would stay up late—not to escape through a window, but to wait for her father, handing him warm food and a smile when he came home exhausted.
Mang Ricardo, in return, drove fewer nights. Not because life suddenly became easier, but because his daughter had finally learned the value of the miles he traveled for her.
Years later, when Trina graduated and stood proudly on stage, she searched for one face in the crowd. She found him—her father—standing at the back, tired, smiling, and quietly clapping.
In that moment, Trina understood this truth:
Some fathers don’t give their daughters the world—
they drive through the night to make sure their daughters can reach it.