PASS BY P. Noval Street beyond 5 p.m. and you will see thick crowds heading toward Fusion Alley, the new food mecca in Manila that, the city government claimed, has produced “millionaires.”
The bustling street food market has created buzz, drawing both praises from gastronomic adventurers and condemnation from residents who cannot stand the noise of vendors and the litter left behind by their patrons.
Whether the vendors admit it or not, even the rants of clueless clout chasers and bandwagon commentators calling for the immediate shutdown of Fusion Alley are helping create the curiosity needed to sell their goods.
But one vendor need not capitalize on the intense debate about the food market. As content creators try to scrape something from the issue, he scoops his sweet offering into plastic cups he will hand to his patrons who came not just for the dessert but for a free show.
As pop tunes spill from speakers and the aroma of greasy food wafts through humid air, the elbow room shuts tighter as one steps closer into his sherbet stall along Adelina Street.
Smartphone-wielding onlookers giggle as they film the vendor toss the lid of the sherbet container in the air and flirt with patrons who momentarily suspend their disbelief and call him by the name he is now known for.
“Chris Brown! Chris Brown!,” the food park customers would exclaim as they approached his stall.
The “Chris Brown” of Fusion Alley would then flash playful smiles and punctuate each order with smooth dance moves, including the sultry kaldag or hip thrusts and floor grinds that have become instantly recognizable on social media. Videos of his performances have racked up millions of views on TikTok, drawing curious customers from across Metro Manila.
The American R&B artist who sizzles on stage because of his raunchy performances has a clone in Manila who offers a cool relief from the warm temperature while retaining the smooth and provocative moves.
Fusion Alley’s Chris Brown has become a street attraction in his own right, but he is a living proof that nothing good ever comes easy.
How he runs it
Born Edison Conocido, the 20-year-old vendor lives with his family in Tondo, where he also prepares the dessert that placed him on the spotlight.
Metal cans of coconut sherbet can be found in front of a four-story building along J. Nolasco Street, which, compared to the chaotic Fusion Alley, is a sleepy area, save for the occasional shrieks of children, the sound of passing vehicles and the cheers at a nearby basketball court.
In this unassuming corner of Manila, Edison is known to his family as “Buknoy.”
Edison emerged at the scene dressed to the nines, styled in streetwear similar to what his look-alike, RnB star Chris Brown would flaunt. His get up came with a black street-style polo, white Nike dunks and a subtle bling — a thick golden ring.
With six years of experience selling sherbet under his belt, Edison knew exactly what to do.
Before heading over to P. Noval Street, he went through a mental checklist. He first got ice from the plant a few strides from where the sherbet containers stand, carrying a chilled styrofoam container over his shoulders.
With every step of his preparations, onlookers would stop him to ask for photo or video opportunities.
“Sanay na ako (I’m used to it),” he told The Flame when asked if the attention bothers him.
Edison crushed the ice he loaded in the cans and mixed the ingredients with a metal stick. As sugar and coconut milk hardened into sherbet, Edison’s focused gaze softened into a warm grin when his nephews flock toward him. One boy’s tiny hands mischievously tapped along the cans despite being gently scolded and the other talked Edison’s ear off as a distraction.
One clean tub, four working wheels and several crushed ice blocks later, Edison packed his things into the worn, metal sidecar of his tricycle and breezed by the sunset on the way to his stall in Fusion Alley.
With a tap on his phone, the first few notes of New Flame by Chris Brown featuring Usher and Rick Ross played — a signal that the show was about to begin.
Edison’s hand dug a metal scooper into a tub of sherbet. The other reached for a crumpled bill from waiting customers, all while his shoulders swayed to the beat of another song.
“Gusto ko ‘yung mga swabe na sayaw niya (I like his smooth dance moves),” said Yance Moises, a Chris Brown fan from Marikina City.
The dessert’s creamy texture and balanced sweetness, sold for just P20 to P50, depending on the size, are only half the draw. Each purchase turns into a brief street performance, where Edison teasingly pulls his customers closer until their faces are mere inches away from one another, only to break the tension by handing them their order.
Even while tending to customers, Edison never turned his fans away. He would lower his arm after one last photo then reach for another cup. With the same smile still on his face, he would ask the next customers what they would like to buy.
“Sakto lang po ‘yung tamis [ng sherbet]. ‘Yung pagsasayaw [ni Edison] po nakaka-good vibes for everyone,” said customer Christal Mae Marbella, who traveled all the way from Pasig City to experience Fusion Alley.
(The sweetness of the sherbet is just right. Edison’s dancing brings good vibes to everyone.)
Loyal to his goal
Breaking a sweat for the daily hustle is second nature to Edison now, but there once was a time when he did not have to lift a finger to get what he wanted.
Born to a housewife and a barangay tanod or watchman, Edison recounted his youth in his hometown of Bulacan as a simple but spoiled one. His loving parents provided him and his younger brother everything they needed.
“Hindi mo ako makikitang humahawak ng kung ano-anong bagay para lang kumita ng pera,” he said.
(You wouldn’t see me holding anything just to earn money.)
But when Edison turned 10, both his aging parents died due to complications of their illness. The boys were forced to confront responsibilities that neither of them were ready to carry.
“Kailangan ko magtrabaho, mag-aral. Pinagsabay ko talaga siya (I need to work, study. I did both at once),” he said.
Edison worked odd jobs here and there, once as a waiter and later as a computer shop’s cleaner, moving all over Luzon with his brother.
“Palipat-lipat kasi ako, eh. Pero mostly lumaki ako sa Bulacan. Tumagal ako sa Bulacan,” he said.
(I go from place to place. But I mostly grew up in Bulacan. I stayed in Bulacan for a long time.)
A scholarship from the daycare foundation that took him in allowed Edison to stay in school. Back then, younger Edison often found himself arguing with other kids, but he did not shy away from confrontation or when it meant standing up for what was right.
His feisty disposition, coupled with the desire to provide himself and his brother a comfortable life, brewed into a dream of becoming a lawyer.
“Noong bata ako, mahilig ako mag-competition sa mga tao. Gusto ko lang pinagtatanggol ‘yung sarili ko,” Edison said.
(When I was younger, I wanted to compete with other people. I wanted to defend myself.”
“Pangarap ko sa sarili ko attorney talaga. Law,” he said.
“At saka, second choice ko lang po ‘yung criminology, if ever na hindi ako papasa sa law.”
(My dream is to become an attorney. Law. And my second choice is criminology, if I don’t pass law school.)
But during his time in school, he still had two mouths to feed at the end of the day. Faced with an empty stomach and no one left to support him, he chose to work full-time, trading his scholarship for another day’s meal. By nightfall, an empty plate waited on the table just as often as an empty wallet sat in his pocket.
With aching hands and a heavy sigh, Edison pulled himself together by following an advice his parents once taught him: surrender his worries to the Lord through prayer.
“Kailangan mo talagang harapin ‘yung hamon na binigay ng Diyos sa ‘yo,” he said. “Tanggapin mo ‘yung ano [ang sinasabi] sa ‘yo ng Diyos, na kung nahihirapan ka man, natural na sa buhay ‘yun.”
(You really need to face the challenges that God gives you. Accept what God is telling you, that struggling is a natural part of life.)
Under influence of his friend
During his stay in Bulacan, Edison spent afterschool afternoons shooting hoops with pals. Among the friends he made was Mark Adrian Manabat.
It so happened that Adrian’s relatives had been running a sherbet business in Quiapo since the 1990s. Adrian was the eldest grandchild of the family’s matriarch, Neve Manabat.
“Talagang best friend po niya ‘yan (They really are best friends),” was how Nanay Neve described the two.
Seeing that his grandmother’s business needed more helping hands, Adrian decided to offer Edison a shot at earning a living. When Adrian introduced his friend from Bulacan to his family, Edison became the family’s extra seller.
“Okay siya, mabait siya. Kapag tinda lang, talagang tinda siya. Nag-aasikaso siya,” Nanay Neve said.
(He’s okay, he’s kind. When it comes to work, he really does work. He helps around.)
As the months went on, Edison became a familiar face to the Manabats. He slowly became part of their home, even having his own bed at their residence.
In 2020, Edison’s sherbet cart started as a stall wandering through the thick of Quiapo’s rushing passerbys.
“Wala naman po akong sariling puwesto (sa Quiapo). Talagang ikot talaga, parang lako-lako,” Edison stated.
(I didn’t have my own spot in Quiapo. I really had to keep moving from one place to another if I wanted to sell.)
During those times, no one looked at Edison’s direction, let alone gave him a second glance despite his voice often rising above the noise of Quiapo. By the end of the day, his throat would give out before his stock did.
“Dati, kailangan magsalita ka [hanggang] mapaos ka muna bago ka makabenta,” Edison said.
(Back then, you would have to speak until you lost your voice before you could make a sale.)
Some days, whenever his cart drew even a small crowd, some sellers would accuse him of blocking their stalls and would demand that he leave.
“Tanggalin mo ‘yung cart mo diyan (Remove your cart from there),” they would tell him, according to Nanay Neve.
Standing at just 5-foot-4, Edison rarely met the taunts with raised voices. Instead, he would crack a joke, flash a grin and push his cart to another corner. To him, that mockery was just part of the work.
“Gano’n naman kasi ang buhay ng isang vendor (That’s the life of a vendor),” he said.
But in 2023, Edison’s younger brother also succumbed to an illness that he believed to be the same one that took their parents. With his younger sibling gone, he was now left with no immediate relative to return to. The Manabat household continued to provide a roof over Edison’s head and treated him like their own.
“Talagang pamilya po [turing] namin sa kaniya, kasi dito rin po siya sa amin nakatira (We really consider him family, because we opened our home to him),” Nanay Neve said.
In the face of his adversities, Edison kept pushing his cart, looking for another corner to continue selling. Eventually, the vendor secured a spot in the middle of Fusion Alley.
Going crazy over Chris Breezy
With an assortment of choices and gimmicks all around the alley, Edison initially struggled to pique the buyers’ interest with just his charming smile and bashful swaying to his playlist.
Everything changed when more and more people saw a striking similarity between him and the pop star, who also goes by the alias “Chris Breezy.”
“Ang [daming] nagsabi [na] kahawig ko daw [si Chris Brown], and then, ba’t ‘di ko raw gayahin. Hanggang sa mas pinush ko ‘yung sarili ko na, Ba’t ‘di ko gawin ‘yun? Tama naman. Kumbaga, marketing kasi ‘yun. Nakadagdag din naman sa paghanap-buhay ko,” he stated.
(Many people told me I look like Chris Brown and asked why don’t I impersonate him. Then, I pushed myself, thinking, Why don’t I try that? They’re right. It’s like marketing. It helps the business too.)
Striking while the iron was hot, the Bulaceño dyed his hair red and kicked his dance steps up a notch by studying the American hitmaker’s signature moves.
Word quickly spread on TikTok’s For You page about Edison’s skills and looks, opening doors for him that he thought were impossible, like being in product endorsements and brand sponsorships.
“[Noong] una, siyempre napi-pressure [ako] (At first, of course I felt pressured),” Edison admitted.
But with constant exposure both in real life and online, the recognition began to feel natural.
“Nasa tao naman po kasi ‘yan kung ano ‘yung masasabi niya or ano ‘yung mararamdaman ng tao. ‘Pag napansin mo naman na okay naman sa kaniya, maging masaya ka na lang,” he said.
(It depends on what the person says or feels. If you see that they are okay with it, then just be happy for them.)
“ ‘Yung kasiyahan, ‘yung entertainment sa mga tao, iyan ‘yung mga ‘di ko makakalimutan,” Edison reminisced fondly.
(The joy, the entertainment that people get is what I will never forget.)
Edison stands behind the cart until about 11 at night. By that time the crowds have become thinner and a number of food stalls have called it a day.
Like his customers may expect, the seller-turned online sensation unwinds by pressing play on Chris Brown’s discography. But the singer’s sensual melodies cannot compare to the respite provided by another genre he unexpectedly listens to: worship music.
“Kapag gusto ko lang naman na palakasin ‘yung sarili ko, [nakikinig ako sa] worship [songs]. Kapag gusto ko rin maging masaya, nagpapatugtog ako ng Chris Brown,” he said.
(If I want to make motivate myself, I listen to worship songs. If I want to be happy, I listen to Chris Brown)
After another selling day cum entertainment show, Edison returned the sherbet cooler at his uncle’s house in Tondo before finally letting his head rest on a soft pillow.
In the quiet of his home, he sheds off his charismatic Chris Breezy persona and reverts to being simply Buknoy.
Look at him now
What was initially just another gig for Edison eventually became a reminder of the life he almost lost and the opportunity he chose to seize. When faced with questions about the uncertain future, Edison would recall the lessons left behind by his parents.
“Kahit anong mangyari… Diyos pa rin ang sandalan mo,” he said. “Nakakapagod ‘yung mga pinagdaanan ko pero, siyempre, isipin mo na lang na ito ‘yung plano sa ‘yo ng Diyos.”
(No matter what, you lean on God. What I went through was tiring but, of course, you have to believe that this is what God planned.)
Over time, brand offers may come and go. Videos of his stunts may get fewer views and likes on social media. While the city government has no plan to shut down Fusion Alley for now, there is no assurance that it would continue to draw huge crowds once other places organize their own food markets.
Whether more strangers crowd around him or the internet moves on to its next viral sensation, Edison will take whatever life throws at him with the same grit that led him to where he is today.
“Pagpapatuloy ko pa rin [‘yung pagbebenta ng sherbet]. Kasi dito ako nagsimula,” Fusion Alley’s Chris Brown said.
(I would still continue selling sherbet. Because this is where I began.)
Underneath the chains and suave moves is a spunky kid from Bulacan thankful for the fresh start that each day brings.
Keeping his sherbet stall successful is his priority now, but he hopes to someday fulfill the pledge he made to his parents: Earn a diploma while maintaining his Chris Brown persona.
“Kung kaya ko namang pagsabayin ‘yung pagnenegosyo at ‘yung goal ko sa buhay ko [na grumaduate], mas gagawin ko,” he said. “Mas gagalingan ko.”
(If I can juggle both the business and my goal [of graduating], then I’ll do it. I’ll work harder.)
As another midday arrived, Edison prepared to channel his idol once more in his designated spot, which has become both his stage and his lifeline. He put up yet another show of steamy gyrations and utensil tossing until his chilled dessert ran out and the last few Fusion Alley visitors asked for selfies.
“ ‘Di ko na-expect na makikilala ako ng [mga] tao sa ginagawa ko. Tiya-tiyagain mo lang. Talagang huwag ka mapapagod. Basta maging matapang ka lang,” the orphan from Tondo said.
(I didn’t expect to become known because of what I do. Just work hard. Don’t ever get tired. Just stay brave.) F — Titus Reaiah Dayrit and Francine Marie Enciso
