"I can do this," Isla chanted to herself as she sat nervously at the makeup table backstage. She was fidgeting with her fingers as the makeup artist applied her lipstick. She looked at her face in the mirror and smiled at herself.

You can do this, Isla. You've made it this far!

She couldn't believe she had made it this far in the beauty pageant, but the pressure was starting to get to her.

Her mother stood behind her, arms crossed, with a stern expression on her face. "Hurry up, Isla! You need to be ready in five minutes!"

Isla tried to keep her composure, but her mother's strict tone made her even more anxious. "Mom, I'm doing my best. I want to look perfect for the competition," she pleaded.

"Your best isn't good enough, Isla. You need to do better. This pageant is important, and you need to be at your absolute best," her mother scolded.

Isla felt a lump in her throat. She knew her mother was right, but the more she was pressured, the more nervous she became.

"I know, Mom. I'm trying my hardest," she said, her voice trembling.

"Trying isn't good enough. You need to succeed. You've worked too hard to let this opportunity slip away," her mother lectured.

Isla took a deep breath and tried to focus. She closed her eyes and imagined herself on stage, radiating confidence and beauty. "I understand, Mom. I'll try harder," she replied again.

Her mother softened her gaze a bit, placing a hand on Isla's shoulder. But her mother's demeanor remained stern. "You need to do more than try, Isla. You need to focus and concentrate. Stop fidgeting and pay attention to your makeup. You need to look flawless on that stage."

"Okay, Mom. I'll do my best."

Her mother looked her in the eyes. "Your best isn't good enough, Isla. You need to do better than your best. You need to be perfect. Do you understand?"

Isla took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, Mom. I understand."

Her mother smiled. She placed her hand on Isla's shoulder. "Good. Now let's finish up your makeup and get you out there. You have a lot riding on this, Isla. Don't let me down."

Isla took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand. As she waited backstage to continue, she couldn't help but feel nervous. The noise from the crowd was deafening, and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

Her mother stood beside her, and her makeup artist gave her a final touch-up, but couldn't help but criticize every move Isla made. "Sit up straight, Isla. You need to look confident!" the older woman scolded.

"I'm trying, Mom. I'm just really nervous."

Her mother was clearly annoyed and couldn't help rolled her eyes at Isla.

"You need to step it up, Isla. You've been preparing for this for months."

Isla felt a knot form in her stomach, feeling the weight of her mother's expectations. "I know, Mom. I'm really trying my best."

The older woman sighed heavily, showing her own nervousness, and vented her worries onto her daughter. "You need to do better than your best, Isla. This is your chance to shine, and you can't afford to mess it up," she warned.

Isla felt a deep sense of frustration; she felt like she couldn't get any emotional support from her mother. All she did was pressure her. Why do some parents excel at pressuring their children? Why do their children always have to be exceptional?

"I know, Mom. But can't you please be more supportive? I really need your encouragement right now." Tears were already welling up in Isla's eyes.

Her mother shook her head. "I am being supportive, Isla. I'm just telling you the truth. You need to do better."

Isla felt like no matter what she did, it would never be enough for her mother. As she stepped onto the stage, she tried to block out her mother's criticism. She would give her best in this pageant. She would bring home the crown! If she couldn't, she would be devastated!

However, on the other side of the Philippines, Mrs. Razonable lay on the bed in the small, dimly lit room, her face contorted in pain. She groaned as another contraction hit her, sweat beading on her forehead.

"How are you feeling, ma'am?" the midwife asked, wiping the perspiration off her patient.

"I'm in so much pain, madam. It hurts so much," Mrs. Razonable replied through gritted teeth.

The midwife nodded sympathetically. "You're almost there, ma'am; just hang in there."

Mrs. Razonable closed her eyes, trying to focus on her breathing, but her attention was drawn to the small black-and-white television in the corner of the room, showing the Binibining Pilipinas pageant.

"Oh, that one looks beautiful." She pointed at the screen.

The midwife turned to look at the TV, momentarily distracted from her duties. "Yes, ma'am. If we weren't occupied here, I might have watched it too."

The pregnant woman's feeling of discomfort slightly eased despite the pain she was experiencing. She watched the pageant attentively, her eyes focused on one contestant.

"Oh, that's the one from Cebu Province. She's beautiful, isn't she?" Mrs. Razonable said, admiring the contestant's beauty.

The midwife nodded. "Yes, ma'am, she looks like an actress. But she's a model, and she also has a few advertisements on Television."

"Yes, I've been watching it on TV, too."

Both of their attention was focused when their conversation was interrupted.

"Cebu Province!"

The young lady walked confidently onto the stage as if she owned it, removing her yellow shawl covering her white two-piece swimsuit outfit and embracing her sexy curves. Most people were left gaping at her beauty. Who could have overlooked her sultry allure?

Isla Gabrielle stood tall at 5'9", her slender figure accentuated by her tiny waist. Her fair white skin glowed under the bright lights of the stage, and her ethereal face was framed by long, flowing hair. She exuded a sense of confidence and grace, capturing the attention of everyone in the room. Adding to her beauty were the dimples beneath her eyes as she smiled while strutting in front of the crowd.

And she looked stunning on television!

The female host then introduced her as she continued to walk the long pathway, gracefully making her way through the evening. "This half-Greek, half-Filipina is studying culinary arts while also modeling on various catwalks; I love her aura and confidence, Cebu Province!"

"She's projecting herself so well, isn't she? I hope she wins," Mrs. Razonable said while staring at the television. Suddenly, her water broke, causing her to lie down. The midwife quickly attended to her.

During the question-and-answer portion of the pageant, Isla was posed a challenging question by the female host. "If you had to choose between love and a career as a nineteen-year-old girl, which would you choose and why?"

She was aware that this was a question many young women faced, and she wanted to provide an honest and inspiring answer.

"Thank you for that question. I always have this favorite quote from Albert Einstein, and I want to share it with the youth who are experiencing love while pursuing their studies." Isla Gabrielle Gomez took a calm breath, gathering her thoughts before answering. "As a young woman, I believe it's important to focus on building a strong foundation for my future, so I would choose a career. Love is beautiful, but it can also be unpredictable and fleeting. A successful career can provide me with stability, independence, and a sense of purpose. Thank you."

The audience erupted in cheers and whispered among themselves as they waved banners and chanted loudly the name of her province. "Go, Cebu! Go! Go, Cebu! Cebu!"

"Push further. I can see the baby's head!" exclaimed the midwife as she assisted Mrs. Razonable.

"Ugh!" she exclaimed. The pushing was exhausting. It felt like she was trying to eject a watermelon from her body. Sweat and tears mingled on her tired face. Her hips trembled, and she felt like she couldn't bear the pain any longer. With each passing moment, she was on the verge of giving up.

"Our Binibining Pilipinas International 2003 is..." announced the pageant's female host. There was a drumroll as the candidates held hands in the center of the stage. The crowd was screaming, cheering, and chanting for their respective candidates.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Razonable screamed so loudly, "Cebu!" that the baby escaped from her massive womb.

"Binibining 10, Isla Gabrielle Gomez from Cebu!"

She had won! She couldn't believe it. The audience erupted in cheers and applause, and Isla walked confidently to the center of the stage.

As the crown was placed on her head, Isla felt a sense of pride and purpose. But deep inside, she was self-conscious. She was thinking about her answer. What if she failed to be a role model? But still, she smiled, feeling radiant and shining, just like a star.

She was a star when the boy who was meant to be part of her was born.