In the high-stakes, drama-fueled world of Philippine showbiz, one “cold war” has quietly shaped the last decade: the saga surrounding Coco Martin. For years, the story seemed simple: Coco, the “King” of primetime; Julia Montes, the silent yet devoted “Queen”; and Yassi Pressman, the long-time on-screen partner of Coco, cast in the public eye as the “rival,” the “other woman” in the “CoJul” narrative.
For seven years, fans witnessed a predictable drama. Yassi bore the brunt of online vitriol, facing criticism for every on-screen moment and off-screen photograph. Her “CoYass” pairing with Coco was a centerpiece of the hit show FPJ’s Ang Probinsyano, yet her success became her curse: the public cast her as the villain in a romance she never sought.
But a new report has turned this narrative upside down. According to insiders, Yassi Pressman may have been the decoy all along. The real target of Julia Montes’s “jealousy”? Not Yassi—but Maris Racal.
For years, Julia’s silence was seen as dignified restraint. She never confirmed her relationships or addressed rumors, allowing her fans to fight her battles online. Yet this report suggests that her quiet demeanor masked a deeper, more focused concern: Maris Racal, the rising star whose chemistry with Coco Martin reportedly posed a fresh, undeniable threat.
The turning point came when Maris was cast in Batang Quiapo as “Mokang.” The “CoMar” (Coco/Maris) pairing ignited a new energy—playful, raw, and unpredictable. Unlike the familiar CoYass dynamic, this pairing felt immediate, exciting, and dangerously authentic. This is allegedly what triggered the real tension behind the scenes, as Maris became the focal point of Julia’s guarded attention.
Maris’s edge, the report claims, lies in her personal stability. In a very public and solid relationship with musician Rico Blanco, Maris is virtually immune to the kind of “public shaming” that plagued Yassi. She cannot be accused of trying to “steal” Coco Martin, and this untouchable status makes her an unexpected and formidable “threat” in the eyes of those invested in the CoJul narrative.
Her confidence is not mere courage—it’s strategic leverage. By being “un-shield-able,” she exposes any insecurity or jealousy as personal, not professional, while maintaining her poise.
And at the center of it all is Coco Martin: the sun around which these forces orbit. He remains the creator of on-screen chemistry, the silent arbiter of who rises and who becomes the “decoy.” For seven years, Yassi absorbed the arrows. Now, Maris stands, professional and untouchable, in the line of fire—and refuses to flinch.
This revelation reframes the entire story. Yassi Pressman emerges as the tragic, seven-year “decoy”—a professional and emotional shield she never asked to be. Maris Racal is recast as the true silent rival, the one who faced the unseen threats, armed with talent, integrity, and unassailable personal standing.
The public war we thought we understood—Coco, Julia, Yassi—may have been misdirection all along. The real conflict, intense but hidden, was CoJul versus CoMar: subtle, strategic, and far more complex than anyone suspected.