The story I’m about to tell you may or may not be true. After all, I’m just a girl babbling under water.
Tap, tap, tap…
It was a quiet morning and I’ve had enough coffee to sustain me throughout the day. I tapped my finger on the table almost lost in my head now. There’s coffee stain on my wooden table. The sunlight touching one side of my face. Alone in my home. Quiet, humid, hot.
Tap, tap, tap…
“Don’t panic. It’s a part of the plan.”
Chiko messaged me over facebook.
Plan? What plan? I wondered for a second about the plan. “Are you actually, uh, a part of planning this plan?”
My heart started beating fast against my chest, like a tiny rabbit kicking inside of me. Anxiety and three cups of coffee was a bad idea. “Then how can I trust you?”
“Because I trust him, and he always did what he said he would do. Look at the brokers. Who’s buying? Who’s selling?”
It was in the middle of a market meltdown triggered by China. There was rarely a stock that could be trusted. A 3% gain was already considered a feat. Gurus campaigned to stay on cash and there I was still involved in a stock with all my money in it. I don’t know how I got involved in this kind of mess in the first place. You could say I’m being stupid. Maybe I am but I was both interested in the idea of finally witnessing a first-hand jockey play and benefitting from it.
I wondered at that moment if I could live through the psychological torture to tell the story. My entire bet is on a person I barely even know.
“Come on, tell me. Who’s buying, and who’s selling?”
I bit my lip. So we’re gonna do broker analysis now? Which I’ve been told not to do, but I’m already way out of my personal rules here. “Snake and VMC”
“That’s him.”, Chiko said. “It’s the same person.”
“I know, I get it. But the price is CRASHING, Chiko.”
“It’s a selldown. We can’t be exempted from China.”
I sat there and watched in despair. “Can you talk to them? Ask them what’s going on? This doesn’t look good.”
“Sure, just don’t sell.”
Three days and all I saw were red long candles. I wanted to run for my life. The only way I can get through it is by not opening my portfolio and ignoring the slaughter. My stomach was in knots. My throat parched in what seemed to be the beginning of a nervous breakdown.
“Chiko, I’m losing money. That guy is a fraud. We need to cut our positions, the chart is scaring me.”
I was feeling way out of my depth. I knew too little to protect myself, but enough to know if the sails are navigating me to a storm.
He didn’t seem bothered, “But I’ve talked to one of the Camorra and they said to buy more…”
“Buy more?! The price just broke support after support. Why would I do that?”
“Because it’s all been accounted for. Look, Armani is buying and selling trying to keep the volume up. He’s also buying the sell downs. It was supposed to fly this week but those damn Chinese ruin every thing for us in the PSE.”
“Next week, I’m sure.”
But, 3 weeks later and nothing happened still. The price was slowly sinking into lower lows, as if every effort to fight out all the selldowns were tiny in puny in comparison.
This went on and on. Week after week, Armani promised the Camorra. HRV went on consolidation. I was forbidden to act on what I see despite my growing doubts. Ofcourse I didn’t have my hands tied literally, but at jockey plays you’re not allowed to think or to act on your own analysis even as the price fell down.
One morning, I messaged Chiko again. “He said it’s going to be today, Chiko. Again.”
“I know, I know… Just give it time.”
“What if you guys are being scammed?”
“No, no we’re not. He’s not gonna put Richard’s and Philip’s millions to nothing.”
“YES he can, Chiko. You know he can.”
He was quiet after that, obviously swayed by what I said. “You said he always did what he promised to do. It’s been weeks now.” I continued.
“Look, I’ll ask around okay?”
It was the new year about three weeks into January, I still couldn’t feel myself having a fresh start. During that time, I watched Zee make money after money everywhere else. How could I feel brand new? I was stuck on a stock, and my earnings depend on a man I have not even met.
Like a dusty old attic filled with cobwebs overlooked during Spring cleaning, I’ve brought my baggage of heavy burden with me into 2016.
“How could you trust this man so much?” I asked Chiko over the phone.
“He made a very good run in the beginning, Celeste.” He answered. His voice trailing off. Most of his confidence slipping off his lap. “It consolidated when he said it would consolidate. It went red when he said it would, it went higher when he said it would go higher defying any technical indicator…”
“Do you have any updates now?” My voice shook. Oh my god, I’m so stupid. I fell for this and my AEP is 40 pips higher than his.
“Well, yeah I asked.” He then sent me new screenshots of another set of promises.
“Is this you? It doesn’t sound like you.”
“No, it’s not. It’s my friend Dao.”
Armani sounded pissed. Dao, Camorra’s hypeman and also quite a technician, had been pestering the man for some time now. All his funds, his family’s funds, and followers’ funds are in it. He was running out of excuses for them when Armani doesn’t do what he said he will.
“I told you time and time again that I’ll take care of it. Just relax. Loyalty dapat. Your loyalty will be rewarded.”
On other days, Armani told Dao that he can’t give details. And Dao, for fear of losing Armani’s patience, could not talk to him any time he needed the reassurance.
“Armani is that you doing the cross at the bottom?” He asked.
“Yes.” Armani replied nonchalantly.
“Won’t that ruin the chart? People think there’s a strong sell off.”
“Let them think what they want to think.”
Again, Dao stood aside helpless and let Armani be.
The man made huge promises. True he’s never met Armani before, and maybe atleast a handshake with the man would have helped him feel more confident now that his entire family’s savings are on this one stock. His only saving grace was how much Philip and Richard, the Camorra’s strategists, are relaxed about the matter. Maybe he couldn’t trust Armani fully, but those two men he does. So whenever Chiko, an old friend, ask him of the going-ons, he simply redirected the question to Richard.
“Don’t worry! We’re on the inside. We’re very, very safe.” That’s what he would say.
“Listen, Celeste. I have news. It ought to cheer you up. They’re going to have a meeting tomorrow! There must be some good news. Richard is going, so we’ll finally know what’s happening.”
It’s been a month that we’ve been quite on the dark. I didn’t know what to do. There’s no way of analyzing a jockey play except listening to what ever information was handed down to you. Every thing depended on what Armani is going through, and he refuses to divulge information– if he was even kind enough to answer Dao’s anxious inquiries.
I wonder how I got there and how I could stand it any longer than I already was doing. I relied heavily on a man who underdelivers his promises ever since I got involved.
And the problem with listening to insider tips or jockey plays, I’m slowly realizing, is that all MEN CAN LIE.
Summer is definitely coming. The rising power of middle class made it more possible to have more cars on the road, and it helps that oil has been hitting some of their historical lows. Traffic was unprecedented. Tension growing for those who had to work. Slow reminders of how every one wished they were back in their academic uniform to fully frolic the charm of the season.
It’s been three months since I first got wind of the jockey play. I don’t think I have changed. I didn’t feel myself improve. I could paper trade on the side but this didn’t give me the type of learning it should have when I’m obviously the emotional kind of person who needed to work on that. This bothered me. This bothered me a lot. I hate wasting my time as much as wasting another person’s time. I couldn’t take back what was gone.
Three months of being stuck on the rut. HRV was being hyped, desperately, everywhere by different people. It was quite obvious that those who were holding taken matters in their own hands and impatience was running rampant.
After the meeting Chiko mentioned, disclosures were promised to be issued and they were but the price still didn’t kick in.
It was the longest winter in the middle of summer, and I could feel it in my bones. Getting into my head, poking at my anxiety, laughing at my pain. Even the optimistic holders had to lie to their selves. It didn’t feel like it was going anywhere any more.
Until one day.
A new broker house started buying up the shares. I would like to hide their name under the alias Horse. I was at work and by this time had grown accustomed to ignoring my port and killing the guilt of not progressing. Chiko called.
“I can’t talk now, I’m at wor–”
“Horse is in.” He interrupted. “Check the board! Horse! Horse– the rider, they’re going to keep buying because the jockey will buy at whatever price.”
“You mean Armani is NOT the jockey?”
“Ofcourse not. He’s the mastermind, sure, but he’s not the jockey. Armani will propose his offer to a jockey and convince him to take the deal, enticing him by the strong hands left holding on to the stocks. I heard he’s such a big shot.” I felt him grinning over the phone, then he dropped his voice down to an inaudible whisper. “The jockey is the man who was responsible for BBC. According to Philip, he made it go from 5 pesos to 70… In just about one week! One week. And now the riders are buying like crazy because they know he’s going to push this up.”
I don’t know to feel then but I admit it did make me happy. Extremely happy. Little did I know that the joyous moment would only last me… a few days.
Next chapter: The Rise and… The Fall?
Hello, every one! I took such measures to make this chapter and the coming chapters carefully written. I might have learned an important lesson for you all and I’ve lived to tell the tale. 😉
I hope you enjoyed it. Again, I need to pace myself as I let the story unfold. After all, it might still be currently on the play. The question is: What part of ‘the plan’ is being laid out right at this moment? I’ve realized how these things are not as simple as it seems. There are a lot of people working on it… and against it. Welcome to the dark underbelly of trading.
The point being: You can choose not to involve yourself on these. It doesn’t matter what wave the ocean sends or why the wave turned out that way, the most important question is… Can you surf?
On my 18th birthday, I played the piano in front of my guests but I was so nervous! I messed it up so bad! This was what I ~tried~ to play though. I do doubt I can still make music, it’s been years since I’ve abandoned the attempt.