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hide-in-imagination · 1 month ago

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“Roads That Cross… with the Day of the Dead (Part 1)"

You can read the previous chapters here: (1),(2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12), (13), (14), (15), (16), (17), (18), (19), (20), (21), (22), (23), (24), (25), (26), (27), (28), (29), (30), (31), (32), (33)

The sound of her alarm woke Ámbar up on the morning of the big day.

For one blissful moment, that was all she thought about: the big day, all the people that would come to the Roller, the Day of the Dead party.

Then the memories of the previous night came crashing back to her. Lying to Simón. Letting Sharon escape. Lying to Luna. Simón once more.

Sleep had helped tune down her emotions until she no longer felt on the cusp of a breakdown, but she didn’t think any sleep in the world would make her feel okay about how she handled things, about all her failures— as a person, as a girlfriend, as everything. She almost hadn’t let Simón touch her last night because of all the guilt she felt, all the anger toward herself for the decisions she kept making against her better judgment. But in the silence that his question invoked— ‘You don’t want to?’— she remembered that if she didn’t take these small moments of joy, then there wouldn’t be any. Wasn’t that what she had decided, many days ago, after that dreadful nightmare? To enjoy the now no matter what might happen in the future?

She’d already taken the approach of self-denial before in a way to silently punish herself, and it'd only made Simón worry, as if he’d done something wrong. She could almost see that same expression on his face when he asked last night, the flicker of rejection in his gaze, and Ámbar would be damned if she made him feel like that, as if he weren’t everything she ever wanted.

Her life could be falling apart, but she’d save him from the wreckage for as long as she could. Blissful ignorance, she repeated in her mind, like an enchantment that would make everything okay. What was done was done. No matter what regrets or concerns she might have about her actions last night, she couldn’t change them. What she could do was coax her boyfriend awake with little kisses, and greet his sleepy eyes with a smile. This day was about him after all, in all the ways that mattered. She could worry about her disasters later.

She left Simón to finish waking up and got out of the bed. Usually, she picked her clothes for the day after her shower and dressed in the room, but this morning, she gathered everything she was going to wear and took it into the bathroom with her. She had a surprise for Simón for later and she didn’t want to spoil it, so she dressed there after her shower, with the door locked even, just in case.

With a towel around her hair, she walked out of the bathroom and told Simón he was free to use it. He was fully awake now, and he looked up from his phone when she talked to him, but if it caught his attention to see her walking out already dressed, he didn’t say.

While he was showering, Ámbar put her dress for the party in a bag, along with some hair accessories and face paints she had bought for the occasion. She had considered just wearing her Day of the Dead makeup all day, but thought maybe it wouldn’t look very professional for the manager to do that, so she decided to paint her face later in the Roller before the actual party started.

She blow-dried her hair and then sat in front of her dressing table to do her regular makeup. She was in the middle of that when Simón walked out of the bathroom, so by the time she finished, he was already clothed. That was why she always used the bathroom first. It was just more practical since he took less time getting ready than she did. Ámbar put on some accessories and perfume while Simón blow-dried his hair. Then they were both ready.

At least, she thought so. “Aren’t you bringing anything for later?” She asked him, picking up her own bag and seeing him empty-handed.

“No, I have everything at the Roller.”

Right, he’d mentioned he’d left his costume there. “Okay, then let’s go,” she said, moving toward the door, but before she could take two steps, Simón’s voice stopped her.

“Wait.” She turned to look at him. “Before we head down, I wanted to give you something.”

Ámbar watched curiously as he walked over to the corner next to the dresser where his backpack laid. He kneeled down on the floor to open it and pulled out something, hiding it behind his back as he returned to her.

“I know this day is going to be a little chaotic with all the customers we’ll be receiving, so I thought I’d give you your present now before the craziness starts.” He drew his hand from behind himself and revealed a little rectangular black box. He smiled. “Happy monthaversary, my love.”

Ámbar was floored with affection. Her face scrunched up with tenderness as she looked up from the present to him. “Aww, I told you you didn’t have to,” she said, leaving her bag on the floor so she could take the present from his hand.

“And I told you I was going to anyway,” Simón replied with a smirk.

Ámbar looked down to unwrap the little white bow that held the box closed and then pulled up the lid to see what was inside.

Her lips formed a small ‘o’ as she took in the bracelet that laid on white plush velvet. The bracelet was silver, formed by many little silver stars linked together in succession, each with a round-shaped stone in the middle. The stones came in three different colors: one a reddish orange, one a dark yellow, and then one that looked black— or was it a dark brown? The three repeated in that order up to the end. In total, it had to be more than ten stars.

“It’s not diamonds but, I hope you like it.”

Ámbar took the bracelet out of the box to inspect it closer. Meanwhile, Simón kept talking.

“The stones are amber. And I think the stars go without saying but, just in case you need clarification, it’s because you’re a star.” He brought one hand to her waist and rubbed his thumb over a spot of her stomach. “And because of this little birthmark I’m so fond of.”

Ámbar had no words. She raised her eyes from the bracelet and looked at Simón, feeling so much love that her chest squeezed. She transferred everything to one hand so she could cup his face with the other and kiss him.

“Thank you, I love it, I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said smiling, and they shared one more kissed before Ámbar pulled away.

“Would you clasp it for me?” She asked, offering her wrist.

“Yeah, of course.”

Simón left the box on top of the bed and secured the bracelet around her wrist. Ámbar shook her hand a little, testing that, even if it moved, the bracelet wouldn’t slip out of her hand. Satisfied with the result of her little experiment, she smiled at Simón again.

“Thank you so much. I’ll never take it off.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Simón planted another peck on her lips and walked to the door. “Now let’s go grab breakfast. We’re going to need all the energy we can get for today.”

“Oof, don’t even remind me,” Ámbar said, and picked up her bag again.

Simón held the door open for her and they walked out of her room together. It was going to be a hectic day, yes, but it was going to be fun too, and as long as Simón was by her side, she knew she could take on anything.

********************

The Roller was filled with people, just as they had predicted.

Personally, Simón thought that rainy days were more chaotic— They ran out of tables and people would just stand everywhere, using up every bit of space. This influx of people was higher than normal, but manageable. And, for starters, the ‘normal’ number of clients in the Roller was chill enough that the Roller Band could rehearse songs in the middle of the day, so really, this was probably the equivalent of a normal work day for other more popular establishments.

Simón suspected the Roller would get more popular after this day, because he’d seen many people filming with their phones—And everything looked amazing.

It was so much fun. The excitement could be felt in the air. Families came and went, the kids pointed at the decorations and screamed ‘It’s just like in Coco!’ and Mexican music played through the speakers of the Roller.

It was like a little piece of home right in the heart of his second home. Simón had experienced many events in the Roller by now, all of them amazing, but this one, for obvious reasons, was rapidly becoming his favorite. It was a shame he was chained to his work, but the whole atmosphere and people’s happy faces from seeing a piece of his culture made it worth it. He’d be able to enjoy it more fully later anyway, once the real party started.

Luna showed up at the bar at one point while he was making a hamburger for table 7.

“Look what Jazmín made for me!” She said with an excited smile, turning her face one way and another to show off her makeup. She looked like a Catrina through and through, with teeth drawn over her lips and everything.

Simón let out a laugh. “That’s pretty, Luna, but wasn’t Jazmín’s station meant for little kids?” He teased her.

“Well, I haven’t turned 18 yet, so I’m still a kid,” Luna replied smoothly. She laughed. “Besides, I never could’ve done a makeup this pretty. Remember all those previous years I tried? I always ended up looking more like a raccoon, or a mime.”

Simón laughed at the memories and put the finished burger on a plate. “It wasn’t that bad. But it is true that Jazmín has a talent for this.” He turned around to get some fries from the air fryer. “All the kids I’ve seen have walked out very happy.”

“Won’t you ask her to do your makeup too?”

Simón turned back to place the fries next to the burger. “No, that’s okay, my mask’s enough.”

“Okay, well, I see you’re busy, so I’ll let you keep working. Hang in there,” Luna said and started to leave.

“Wait!” Simón stopped her. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Luna stood in front of him once more. “What is it?”

Are you really going to do this? A voice, probably his conscience, judged him. He and Ámbar had had a nice morning, he was having a nice day— did he really need to talk about this now?

But if everything was truly in order then, there was no harm in asking, right?

“What was that about last night? How did you end up with Ámbar?”

Luna looked at him with confusion. “Didn’t Ámbar tell you?”

Yeah, didn’t Ámbar tell you?

“A little,” he played dumb. “But what were you doing there?”

“Oh, I wanted to look for pictures of Lily and Bernie.” Luna turned a little shy. “This whole Day of the Death party got me thinking about them, and, well… you know. That’s why I went to Sharon’s room.”

“And that’s where Ámbar was?”

“Yeah. Apparently, she heard some weird noises and thought someone had come for the chest again, so she locked herself inside Sharon’s room. She seemed pretty rattled.”

Locked herself? She didn’t tell me that.

But it didn’t lack logic, did it? If anyone was actually after the chest, locking the door would be the most effective way to stop them from getting to it. Ámbar’s story still fit Luna’s.

See? Now stop asking questions. There’s no reason to keep digging into this—

“When you found her, did you see her talking on the phone by any chance?”

He couldn’t help it. He wasn’t proud of this, but he had an uneasy sensation inside, and maybe it was paranoia, but he needed to ask about it.

Luna frowned. “Her phone? No, I didn’t even see her with it. Although,” her brows scrunched up further, as if trying to remember, “maybe I heard her voice through the door… But maybe she was just talking to herself,” she dismissed it. “Or maybe I imagined it, I don’t know.”

The sensation didn’t abate completely, but Simón nodded his head. “Right.”

Luna looked at him with worry. “Why are you asking? I thought you two had made up.”

“Oh, yeah, we did, we’re good now,” he assured her. Technically, they were. “I was just, curious.”

Luna kept staring at him, this time in that certain way she did sometimes that made Simón feel a little exposed, because he knew she knew him from years ago, and on occasion, that became evident.

“Simón—” She put her hand on his forearm. “Enjoy this day, alright?” She said with pleading, earnest eyes. “Look at all this amazing stuff Ámbar put together just for us. For you,” she empathized, tightening her hold, grinning brightly, and for all his conflicted feelings, Simón couldn’t help but break a smile. “Have fun and don’t think silly things, okay?”

Her cheerful energy was certainly contagious, and she made such good points Simón found himself agreeing. “Okay.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he replied. He’d already asked his questions anyway. Maybe he should let it go.

Something caught his eye behind Luna, a few tables away, and he let out a little laugh. “Now go. Your admirer is waiting for you.”

Luna frowned. “Admirer?” She turned around, following his gaze, but of course, Matteo looked away immediately when she did. It was still pretty obvious he’d been staring though.

Luna turned toward Simón again, giving him a reproachful look, but her lips were curved into a smile anyway. “Oh, come on, don’t start. Actually, you know what? I’m leaving,” she said. And she really walked away, making it a point to go over to Nina’s table and not where Matteo was.

Simón laughed to himself and shook his head at those two’s shenanigans. When were they going to stop running in circles and get back together?

He added a glass of orange juice next to the burger and called Pedro over to deliver it to table 7. Pedro came by, handed him three more notes with orders written on them, and walked away with the tray. O-kay. Better get on with that, then.

He didn’t have much time to think about anything other than work after that. At some point in the afternoon, he switched places with Pedro, with him taking over the waiting tables part and Pedro working the register and making the food— Then the work continued. Eric had his hands full handling the lockers and rink, so he couldn’t help them out with the cafeteria, which was fine, again, it was manageable. But they would definitely be exhausted after today, all three of them. Thankfully, tomorrow was the weekend, so they’d be able to rest, thanks to the part-timers Ámbar had hired. God bless them.

Honestly, Simón only had to look around at all the happy faces and thriving business to see how much good Ámbar had done for this place. He remembered back when Gary appointed her as manager, how everyone feared it would be a reign of terror for the Roller, but it had turned up being the complete opposite— The Jam & Roller had gradually returned to its days of peace under Ámbar’s management, and things were getting even better, with the free weekends (something they always should’ve had, really), the security cameras in the lockers to avoid any further incidents, and who knew what other improvements Ámbar would implement in the future.

Luna was right— Simón had so many positive things to focus on that it was silly not to. At the very least, he could forget about his worries for a couple of hours. His problems would still be there tomorrow if he wanted to do something about them, but today, he would just do his job and enjoy himself as much as possible.

*****************

After many days of effort, the actual day of the Roller Jam was turning out to be quite peaceful for Ámbar, far from what she’d predicted.

Her experience working at the Roller, and the Flash Open in particular, had left her thinking she’d be running around from one place to the next constantly, but as it turned out, when you actually did all the work beforehand, the only thing left to do on the real day was to just… watching things unfold. Of course, she had to be on alert in case something went wrong, but so far, there hadn’t been any issues: People ate and talked at the cafeteria, kids got their makeup done with Jazmín and Yam, Jim took commemorative photos, Delfi filmed the activities and some people waving at the camera for social media…

One could breathe the joy in the air. As long as the lights and music systems worked as they should during the actual party later, everything would be perfect. Then Ámbar would be to relax— A foreign concept for her by this point, but one she was looking forward to.

There wasn’t much for her to do until then. She kept making rounds to make sure everything was going smoothly, and it was, which made her happy, but it also made her feel a little aimless, restless, because while everyone else was busy serving the customers, her whole role was just overseeing. She felt a little bad for Simón. She would’ve liked for him to just sit back and enjoy everything, like Luna was doing, instead of having to work full speed to wait all the tables.

She approached him at one point in the afternoon, while he was picking up the used plates, glasses, and silverware that a group of customers had just left behind and placing them carefully on a tray. Ámbar had seen him carrying that tray with only one hand many times today and she had no idea how he did it. If it were her, she’d probably drop everything, tray and all. Another talent of his she admired.

“I’m so sorry I have you working on our monthaversary.”

Simón glanced in her direction and offered her a smile while he continued filling the tray with the dirty dishes. “Hey, it’s okay, I would’ve been working anyway, event or no event.”

“I could’ve let us both take the day off under different circumstances,” she lamented.

Simón picked up the tray, now full, with both hands, and turned toward her with a smirk. “But then what could we have possibly done all day?”

His flirtatious comment brought Ámbar out of her low mood and drew a huffed laugh out of her lips. She returned his mischievous look, but before they could discuss further what an entire day off could’ve looked like for them, a couple of customers a few tables back raised their hands and started asking for the check, drawing both of their attentions.

Simón balanced the tray on one hand in order to show them a thumbs up, a sign that meant he’d seen them and would be there shortly.

He turned back to Ámbar. “Duty calls,” he said, sighing, but he reincorporated to show her one last smile. “Will you save me a dance later?”

Ámbar pursed her lips. “Mmm I don’t know, I’ll have to think about it,” she said, but the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth was pretty obvious.

Simón grabbed her hand to place a kiss on the back of it. He held it for a second after, enough to run his thumb over the bracelet of stars.

“See you later, boss,” he said, keeping their eyes locked.

Ámbar couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she watched him walk away. She ran her own fingers over the bracelet, feeling her heart full, and her lungs, and her stomach filled with butterflies. She decided to go to the rink and check everything was going well over there, just because she knew that if she stayed here in the cafeteria, she would stare at him forever.

The rest of the afternoon passed by in pretty much the same fashion. As the evening neared, she started seeing more people arriving in costumes for the party, and the Roller guys who hadn’t gotten there already in costume started taking turns in the dressing room, or the lockers, to get ready.

Little by little, the place filled with skeletons adorned with flowers— Life and death in all its splendor. Once Ámbar deemed it was the right time, she went into the dressing room herself to change and do her Catrina makeup.

The first layer of her dress hugged her body down to mid-thigh, covered in intricate designs of flowers and green leaves on a black lace backdrop, held up by thin straps on her shoulders, and accentuated her cleavage with a heart-shaped neckline. The top layer was all black, lacking any flowers or designs, but added volume to the assemble. It consisted of a black open piece that wrapped around her waist, flaring at her hips with ruffles that fell asymmetrically, leaving the front of her legs bare, but extending down to her ankles on her back. The light material would move effortlessly as she did once the party started, but Ámbar had made sure the length was just right and not a centimeter longer so that it wouldn’t accidentally catch on her rollerskates. It was perfect. She was very proud of her outfit.

She added a red flower piece to her head and curled the strands of her hair a little to liven it up. Then she started the process of painting her face into a skull, following a picture she’d found on the internet for reference.

Jazmín entered the dressing room while she was in that process. She had all the face paints and makeup utensils she’d used during the day in her hands, and went to store them for the next time they would be needed— Except for those that were from her own personal collection, of course. Those she left on a separate pile, and Ámbar imagined she would take them home with her at the end of the night.

What she did not imagine was that Jazmín would offer to help her with the finer details of her makeup.

“Not that you’re doing a bad job, but I have a brush that’s thinner and works better with the paint, and I also know a makeup trick to make sure it stays in place all night.”

Ámbar couldn’t help but think back on that time Jazmín did her makeup all wrong just to spite her and briefly wondered if she wanted to do the same now. But she hadn’t done anything this time to make her angry, and Jazmín seemed honest. Maybe she just really liked doing people’s makeup and she would’ve offered whoever she found here. Maybe it was an olive branch. Maybe Ámbar had a tendency of overanalyzing people’s intentions and should just accept kind gestures without thinking so much about it.

“Okay, thank you.” She smiled. “I would appreciate it.”

In just a few minutes, her face looked exactly like the reference picture—Even better, if she said so herself. She thanked Jazmín again, who replied that the best way she could thank her was to start the Roller Jam already because she couldn’t wait to start filming for Ja-Jazmín. True to her words, her tablet seemed to have teleported into her hands the second she stopped holding a brush.

They walked out of the dressing room together, with Jazmín going toward the rink after Ámbar assured her that she would be there shortly to kick off the event. Ámbar looked around the cafeteria, but she didn’t see either of the two people she needed: Simón and Luna. She saw Eric behind the bar, washing some dishes, and asked him about Simón.

“He finished waiting the last table with Pedro and both of them went to the lockers to change,” Eric told her. Clearly, he had gone there first, because he was already wearing a themed costume and someone had drawn skull features on his face. “I already told everyone that if they want anything to drink, they can ask me.”

The Roller couldn’t miss the business opportunity of a party where people were bound to get thirsty, so someone had to be in charge of serving the people who did, and the chosen person for the job was Eric. Of course, all drinks would be non-alcoholic— the Roller didn’t even have a liquor license— and the entrance with alcoholic drinks was actually strictly forbidden for the event. Ámbar suspected someone would try and sneak in some anyway, even though it was an egregiously bad idea when everyone would be on wheels, but if whatever idiot did that got injured, neither Ámbar nor Vidia would be held responsible—They made their policy very clear.

“I’m so sorry for having you interrupt your fun,” Ámbar apologized to Eric. He’d be paid extra hours, obviously, but still. “It’s just, since you won’t be in rollerskates anyway, I figured—”

“Nono, don’t worry, it’s okay,” Eric dismissed her concerns with a flick of his hand, just as the first time this had been decided. He wasn’t very steady on skates, so he’d said early on that he would rather wear regular shoes during the Roller Jam, and that made him the perfect candidate to be going from the rink to the cafeteria back and forth. “I would’ve offered anyway. Parties aren’t exactly my thing, so having a break every once in a while will be nice.”

“Thank you,” Ámbar said honestly. “The only thing I’m going to ask you is that you make sure that everyone pays for their stuff, okay? This is a business, not a charity— We can’t just give things away to our friends all the time.”

Eric nodded. “Got it.”

She had just left the bar to go in search of Simón when he rounded the corner of the hallway and appeared in front of her.

Both of them stood still, running their eyes over the other. Simón had changed his clothes, but not into the skeleton outfit he’d shown her days prior— He wore a white shirt over black fitted pants, which, upon further inspection, she noticed had sequin stripes on the side of the legs. But the most eye-catching part was the red jacket. It was a deep red, covered on the front, stand collar, and arms with white sequin flower designs that made her dress look simple in comparison. He wore it open over the white shirt, which left the big bronze-and-black bow tie around his neck front and center. Ámbar wasn’t an expert, but she suspected it was some kind of special Mexican bow tie because she had never seen one shaped like that before, with little strings hanging from the bottom.

Overall, he looked kind of like a mariachi without a hat. An extremely handsome one.

It was Simón who spoke first. “Wow, you are…” He seemed unable to find the right words. His eyes shone with admiration. “…the most beautiful Catrina I’ve ever seen.”

Ámbar smiled, very pleased by his reaction, and stepped closer to him with coquetry. “Thank you.” She ran her hands over his jacket and grabbed the open sides. “You look very handsome too. But this Catrina is missing her Catrín; where’s your skull costume?”

“I’ll put it on after the performance.”

That made sense. “Okay. Are you ready?” She asked, returning to business mode. “Is Luna ready?”

“I’m here!”

Luna showed up running from the direction of the rink— Always a whirlwind of scatterbrained energy, this one. She looked very Mexican too, in a white and purple dress stamped with flowers, with stripes here and there in the country’s flag colors. Her big flowers headpiece put Ámbar’s to shame.

She pushed that thought aside. “Great.” She parted from Simón. “I’ll put on my skates, open the Roller Jam with a few words, and then the rink’s all yours,” she told them both.

And that was exactly what she did. The rink was empty when she approached it, as per her request, with all the people standing around it or sitting on the bleachers, waiting for the show to start. Ámbar skated over to the right side of the rink, where the control panel for the music and lights was installed, and grabbed the wireless mic the DJ and sound technician behind it had prepared for her. She stood in front of the crowd and welcomed them to the Roller, to this new special edition of their famous Roller Jams, and thanked everyone who helped make it come true. She told everyone to have fun, enjoy— Marvel at the magic of the Day of the Dead.

“And who better than these two to kick off this very special night?” Ámbar spread her arm toward the rink. “Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Luna and Simón!”

The lights went down and applause erupted from the audience, accompanied by cheers and whistles from the Roller guys supporting their friends. Different colored lights started moving around the place while two big spotlights illuminated the rink. Luna and Simón walked into the rink as if it were their own big stage, both of them holding their own mics, which they had received from the tech guy.

The music started playing. The sound of cheery, melodic trumpets filled the place, submerging everyone into the world of México.

Simón brought the mic to his lips and started singing.

Te vas amor

Si así lo quieres qué le voy a hacer

Tu vanidad no te deja entender

Que en la pobreza se sabe querer…

Opposite from him, with an equally bright smile on her face, Luna raised her own mic and started singing too.

Quiero llorar y me destroza que pienses así

Si más que ahora me quedé sin ti

Me duele lo que tú vas a sufrir…

The music took flight at the chorus, and from there on out, Simón and Luna absolutely marveled with their performance, dancing around the rink, either together or separately, and inspiring everyone to do the same. No one seemed to be able to stay still while they watched them— They either clapped or swayed in place, infected by their energy and joy.

Ámbar couldn’t be happier from seeing Simón so happy. It made all the work she’d put into this day worth it. It even made her want to do something like this every day just to see him smile like that.

The performance came to an end with Simón and Luna leaning back-to-back, harmonizing the last few verses of the song. The crowd burst into a wild round of applause, and Simón and Luna turned around to hug tightly. Once they parted, Simón brought his mic up to his mouth again.

“Okay, everyone, are you ready to party?!”

The crowd cheered in front of them.

“We can’t hear you!” Luna yelled.

The cheers came back louder.

Luna laughed. “Okay, then let’s get this party started!!”

Ámbar made the sign to the DJ and upbeat music started playing through the speakers. On cue, everyone started filling up the rink, skating and dancing, swarming up around Simón and Luna. Ámbar could see them hugging their friends and talking excitedly. Luna stayed with her girl group and started to dance while Simón grabbed both their mics in one hand and crossed the sea of people to join Ámbar.

She received him with a proud smile and a hug. “You were incredible, my love.” She never doubted their opening number would be a success. If there was one thing about this day she wasn’t worried about, it was that.

“Thank you.” He reached his hand over and returned the mics to the sound guy behind her, then he focused on her again. He looked like if he smiled any harder, he was going to hurt his face. “All of this is amazing— I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”

“Well, you owe me a dance,” Ámbar reminded him, to which Simón pulled her by the hand and started dancing with her in time to the music.

He alternated between bringing her close to sway their bodies together or increasing the distance so he could move her around and make her spin, holding her hand over her head. Their balances were different since he was wearing shoes and she was in rollerskates, but it didn’t matter. Ámbar couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed out of pure joy like in this moment. She’d probably been with him too.

“I’m going to change into my costume,” Simón told her after a few minutes, close and loud in order to be heard over the music. “Wait here.”

Ámbar gave him a teasing look. “Did you really have to get another outfit for the performance? Luna sang with her costume already on.”

“And miss the chance to wear this jacket?” He joked, showing it off, and they both laughed. She had to hand it to him—It was a nice jacket. “Be right back.”

He leaned as if to kiss her but stopped himself short. “Ah.”

When he looked around at the people around them, Ámbar understood why he had stopped. She smiled. Bringing her hands up, she held his face between them and kissed him herself.

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” she told him when she drew back. “We’re all in costumes anyway. I don’t think anyone will notice.”

Simón smiled back at her. “Okay.” He gave her another kiss, lingering a little longer, and then pulled back, looking at her softly. “I’ll be right back with you.”

Ámbar watched him go and had half a mind to follow after him, but held herself together and refrained. If she was there while he changed, things would happen, and while that sounded very appealing, she couldn’t allow herself to let loose like that just yet. She still had to announce Matteo— without saying it was Matteo, she thought with an internal roll of her eyes. The things she subjected herself to, honestly. She hadn’t thought yet about what she was going to make him do in return for this surprise for Luna, but she would make sure to make it something big.

Figuring she might as well get that done and over with right away, she went over to the control panel to grab her microphone. They’d already made all the preparations— Matteo only requested a mic stand and a way to connect his guitar to the audio systems— so once she presented him as ‘a surprise performer that would be delighting them with a song in a few minutes’, it’d be up to him to take the stage when he was ready.

Ámbar stood with the mic in hand and made a sign for the DJ to lower the music and shine a spotlight on her. Everyone’s eyes focused on her once he did, and she put on her best public smile. One last duty and I’m free.

She was ready to let the stress go and start dancing the night away.

*****************

Simón hurried out of the rink, not wanting to be away from the fun for too long. He went to the dressing room, where he’d stored his Catrín costume previously, and when he passed by the bar, he noticed it was empty, meaning no one had required Eric’s services yet. Good. He deserved to have some fun after the long day they’d had.

He entered the dressing room and retrieved the hanger that held his costume. He took off his red jacket and white shirt and changed them for a black combo— a shirt and a suit jacket, which had white rib bones painted on it and arm bones on the sleeves. The necktie he put on next had the drawing of a backbone, and just like that, piece by piece, the skeleton came to life— With the leg bones on his black pants, the hand bones on his black globes, and lastly, the skull shape of his white mask. Once he was done changing, he took the time to hang his other outfit under the clothing cover he’d hidden them in during the last week. The corners of his lips turned up. He’d bet Ámbar didn’t think he could have surprises of his own. Judging by the look on her face earlier, she’d really appreciated the outfit— or at least, how it looked on him— but she was right: that Catrina was missing his Catrín, and it’d be a shame to have her missing him for much longer.

He looked at himself in one of the mirrors before leaving, adjusting his necktie so it wasn’t crooked and making sure everything looked alright. He smiled at his reflection. He loved wearing costumes like these. It was kind of the reason why he’d decided to wear a separate outfit for the performance— It wasn’t very often he had the opportunity to wear things reminiscent of México living in Buenos Aires. And today, he’d gotten to wear two. And he sang with Luna. And they did steps of traditional dances.

A happy sigh left his lips. If Ámbar’s plan was to soothe his nostalgia, it had worked, with flying colors. He was so excited he felt like he could dance the whole night without tiring. And, of course, there was no one he would rather dance with than his girlfriend, who had made all of this possible.

He walked out of the dressing room and went to the lockers to put on his rollerskates. Upon entering, he found Pedro behind the counter, crouched down and checking the shelves underneath it. He had one of his skates on while the other laid sideways on top of the counter.

“Hey,” Simón greeted him, frowning a little. “Everything alright? Do you need something?”

Pedro looked up at him briefly. “Hey.” His gaze went back to searching. “Yeah, one of my wheels is missing its axle nut. I have no idea if it was like that from before and I didn’t notice or if it rolled away now when I was skating, but thank god I realized it before I ended up killing myself.” It sounded like an exaggeration, but without the axle nut, the whole wheel could’ve rolled away, so it really was that serious.

“The problem is that I don’t have any replacements with me,” Pedro continued, “so I was checking if we had any here at the lockers, but apparently not.” He stood, bending the knee of the leg that was still wearing a skate so it was at the same height as the other. He looked at Simón. “Do you happen to have any spare ones by any chance?”

Simón smiled sadly at him. “No, sorry.” Pedro deflated in front of him. “But— Hey. Just take one from one of the rental skates,” he proposed. “As long as you remember to return it at the end of the party, no one should get hurt.”

Pedro’s face lighted up. “You’re right.” He turned around, taking a pair of skates from the shelves on the wall. “And just in case I forget, I’ll leave these hidden under the counter so you all know which ones you’re not supposed to touch.” He grabbed a T-tool and started working on the switch. “What about you? I thought you’d be dancing with Ámbar by now.”

“That’s the idea, I just gotta put on my rollerskates first.” He lifted one foot, gesturing towards his untied shoes. He hadn’t bothered to tie them since he’d be taking them off anyway.

“Well, if you need the T-tool, I’ll leave it right here under the counter,” Pedro said, finishing rolling the axle nut onto his own skate.

“Thank you.”

Simón walked over to his locker to pull out his rollerskates and brought them with him to a bench. He sat and checked that everything was alright with his wheels— he didn’t want a repeat of Pedro’s story— and then put them on. The whole time, the music and voices of everyone having fun reached his ears, filling him with eagerness to join them.

By the time he left the lockers, Pedro was already gone. He couldn’t even see him when he neared the crowd of people in the rink—It was too many dancing bodies and too many disguises and masks to find someone in particular.

Except for Ámbar. He would recognize her blonde hair anywhere, no matter how crowded or how dark the room.

It took him barely seconds to place the familiar golden waves. Simón rolled his skates in her direction—

And froze.

He couldn’t quite process what he was seeing. He was seeing it, but he couldn’t understand it. Because Ámbar was wrapped in the arms of someone else, some guy with a mask who held her possessively. And she was kissing him.

The world seemed to stop, along with his breathing, and his heart. Ámbar had her arms around the guy’s neck, and she moved her mouth with his with fluid easefulness, completely into it, into him.

Every party sound around him got replaced by a ringing in Simón’s ears. The only voice he could hear came from inside his own head— the memory of words from many days ago.

‘The moment she gets tired of you, the moment she gets bored of pretending to be someone that she’s not, she’s going to come to me.’

Ámbar parted from the other guy’s lips, and as if taken from a fragment of his worst nightmare, the guy took off his mask, and revealed Benicio’s face.

‘And I’m going to welcome her with open arms.’

He was smirking.

…

---------------------

I’ve been waiting for five years to make that callback to that dialogue.

If anyone wants to see a picture of Ámbar’s bracelet (you know, focusing on the positives) here it is:

#simbar #simbar fic #simbar fanfic #soy luna fanfiction #soy luna #My Writing #roads that cross #next chapter might be ready next month-- May at the latest!

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putonmyfavoriteshow · 2 years ago

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putonmyfavoriteshow's master fic writing post on-going ~ Violetta the heart of pretending (future franletta/leonetta reverse fake-dating au dramedy; my passion project) Soy Luna ...and they were roommates (post show jazmilia/delfma; self-indulgent rom-com chaos for side-characters who deserved more) BIA the celestial goat & her cosmic fish (platonic-for-now chiarleste's great astrology debate; a dynamic exploration between my favorite kind of bickering sidekicks) finished multi-chaps ~ Violetta a perfectly perfect gift (luty ft. franletta - my first official dcla multi-chap!) luty month (daily prompts from @iristhedeadflower) franletta month (daily prompts from @weirdthoughtsandideas) finished one-shots/two-shots ~ Violetta no boys, no problems (right?) (franletta s2 alternate ending to italy arc) an unexpected evening (jadangie fix-it fic - dcla gift exchange 2022 + bonus dcla pride month chap) midnights (a ludmila pov luty fic + bonus luty month chap) playing murder (and all that jazz) (violetta gang halloween fic - canon pairings) go figure (a naty pov luty fic) the mistletoe experiment (a natila story based on a dcla advent calendar prompt from @countessofravenclaw) welcome to new york (christmas version) (violetta gang xmas fic - canon pairings) it is what it is (luty - angsty ficlet) the deadfast club (violetta gang horror two-shot - luty focus ft leonetta/camcesca)

Soy Luna elevator goes up, elevator come down (simbar s3 missing scene - tumblr soy luna fic week 2021) unlock my heart (when lutteo got locked in the dressing room, except it's jazmilia aka the best non-canon ship ever made by a random wheel) there's a great big beautiful tomorrow (lutteo/gastina tomorrowland adventure - dcla gift exchange 2023) BIA losin' sleep (thiana s2 missing scene inspired by @assim-eu-sou) dream date (romantic chiarleste debut to ao3) non dcla ~ my sorta friend's sister's funeral (victorious - jori - angst/fluff one-shot) even crows have wings (six of crows - kanej - sl/roller skating au one-shot) page 55 (the villains of valley view - hartmy - missing scene drabble) if we were a horror movie (the villains of valley view - hartmy - hartmy watch jennifer's body)

other fan content: my tumblr edits tag my tumblr gifs tag

#my masterlist #my masterpost #my fanfics #pinned post #dcla #this is crazy to see how much i've written in just this past year #a little emo about it 🥺#thanks for all the inspiration and support friends 🥰#violetta #soy luna #disney bia

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lastshadeofme · 2 years ago

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This idea has been stuck in my head for days so here is some kind of preamble, just to see if people would be interested in reading it (so I can know if I keep writing it or not):

btw it’s supposedly an Ámbar x female Original Character fic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49139167/chapters/123980524

#soy luna #ambar smith #emilia mansfield #original character #soy luna fanfiction #ao3 fanfic

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tulips-moon · 1 year ago

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Ojos azules

Ok, porque ustedes lo pidieron, fanfic de Gojo Satoru.

Advertencias: Acoso, secuestro, denigración, violencia, machismo, dime si me perdí de alguna. Nota: Espero les guste mucho, si crees que podría mejorar en algo, por favor dímelo acepto cualquier crítica constructiva.

Gojo Satoru, un chico que realmente solo se acostaba con una chica y la dejaba, un chico con mucho dinero, muy poderoso y guapísimo, el hechicero más poderoso, un tipo gracioso y despreocupado... Era perfecto, ¿no? Tenía todo lo que necesitaba, ¿verdad? Nadie tiene todo lo que quiere siempre, solo Satoru, pero aún él necesitaba algo... algo que nunca encontró hasta que te conoció: Amor maternal. Si en una pareja puede ser raro, pero aunque no lo creas puede que allá chicas que cuiden de todos, que les den ese lindo amor maternal que necesitaban, esa comprensión, cuidado, atención, empatía, amor, afecto, eso que solo una buena madre te puede dar (Una madre ya sabes a lo que la gente dice por qué hay mamas que no son así y no está mal.) Desafortunadamente tú tuviste que ver a Satoru como un niño necesitado de amor, parecía que la única que lo notaba eras tú lo cual le encanto.

Al principio Satoru solo quería follar contigo y botarte, pero... Algo en ti lo atrajo, algo que quería solo fuera para él, tu empatía y afecto incondicional, eso hizo que te quisiera conservar para siempre, solo para él y talvez con tu mamá que lo trataba igual de bien que tú.

Vas caminando a tu casa tranquilamente, una noche hermosa con el cielo lleno de estrellas que adornaban preciosamente la luna, el aire era fresco con una brisa relajante, tenías un café que Satoru te compro, pero lo tiraste, pues estabas muy molesta, pues habías descubierto que él solo te quería para tener sexo contigo, además el café tenía mucho azúcar.

Cuando llegaste a tu casa casi te da un infarto, viste a Satoru Gojo sentado en tu sillón comiendo galletas y chocolate, que le preparó tu mamá. Su sonrisa estúpida cambio cuando vio que no traías el café, no había botes de basura cercanos para cuando lo hubieras terminado y tú no tirabas basura en la calle. Le hablaste en un tono de molestia y odio.

T/N: ¿Qué demonios haces en mi casa? Satoru: Solo... vine porque soy tu novio... T/N: JA... No, ahora lárgate de mi casa

Tu madre se extrañó ante este comportamiento poco usual entre tú y Satoru, pelo lo entendió después de todo, los problemas de pareja pueden ser usuales en parejas jóvenes como tú y Satoru. Ella solo sacó a Satoru mientras él te mira con furia y obsesión, algo que hace recorrer un escalofrío en todo tu cuerpo, solo viste esa mirada cuando tu mejor amiga te estaba coqueteando, **extrañamente** ella desapareció unos días después. Lo mismo que pasaría contigo, pero no lo sabías

Subiste a tu cuarto y te dispusiste a dormir. Cuando despertaste, dios, deseaste no haberlo hecho. Estaba Satoru frente a tu cuerpo encadenado y semidesnudo, él te miraba peligrosamente, con celos, odio, obsesión y crueldad. (Parte 1/3)

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purple-fireflies · 2 years ago

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in my rewatch of soy luna i feel like there are so many changes i would make that wld still make the show as dramatic but not the same formula of couple is happy, couple breaks up, couple gets back together

like in the scene where luna offers to help ambar (s2, around episode 50-52), that could’ve been the start of a lumbar friendship which would’ve been SO GOOD like can you imagine that ambar would go to bat for luna and luna would be someone that ambar could lean on

we could recognize that luna…has flaws…and have her grow as a character, ESPECIALLY with matteo. like when matteo is going through everything with bruno, she could get mad, but then nina could be like “girl don’t you see he’s being manipulated and that guy is hurting him” and luna could like actually stick through the relationship with matteo, rather than ditching him every time he disagrees with her. also her keeping her search for her parents from matteo, but then telling him when she’s had a really bad day or something

the simbar plot line is actually pretty great and i wouldn’t change it tbh

for gastina, i honestly would’ve liked more jealous gaston 😭😭😭 but also they have a major communication problem (partly because the writers don’t know how to keep couples apart without using the miscommunication trope)

i also think that nina as a character was forgotten about and only existed in relevance to luna or gaston and if we had like a scene of her sending in gaston’s application and being really into the school and having this journey of realizing she wants to spread her wings and go to oxford and talking to her parents about it

anyway i could totally write this into a fanfic but idk if anyone would read it

#soy luna #lutteo #gastina #simbar

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weirdthoughtsandideas · 6 months ago

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Ok, after my previous post today, I have thought more about it...

How would you like a dcla event where there's three weeks in a row, one dcla show per week? So we have a Violetta week, a Soy Luna week and a Bia week. We could also have an extra week for stuff you came up with later, or if you want to do something you didn't have time to finish, etc.

Every week have the same 7 prompts. So, day one could be "character", where you could make content for your favorite character/s, either fanart, fanfic, edit, or maybe simply a post where you just write an appreciation for them. Next day could be "ship" where you do the same thing but with ship/s (we could have a day for canon ships and one for non-canon ships. Maybe a day for friendships too!). Then a day could be "scene" where you focus on a scene you either really love, or really wanna highlight, and either maybe make a post talking about how you feel about it, or you write a fic where you rewrite the scene or write it from another person's perspective - or write a scene we didn't get in canon! Or you'll draw fanart of a certain scene. And of course, a day could be "song" where you talk about one of your favorite songs and why that is.

These weeks would kind of just be a tribute to each of the shows, "appreciation weeks" if you will. And creating content for it would not only be making fanart and fics, but could also simply be posts of appreciation and analysis: "Why I love this character", "Why this scene is important to me", "This is my favorite ship and why", "My favorite song and why I love it", etc.

I'm just in a pitching stage of it rn. But does it seem like a fun idea? Obviously, it's not a revolutionary idea, it's a pretty common fandom event to have, but I've had fun in the ones I've participated in before. And it would be fun to just give some tribute to these shows <3

#violetta #soy luna #disney bia

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iridescentis · 1 year ago

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Hello!! I'm Vin!

Welcome <3 I'm 19, I'm an aroace lesbian, some flavour of genderqueer, I'm also british so there's that, and I just talk about whatever! There is no consistency here my apologies.

Fandoms/interests: Soy Luna The Sims 4 The Quarry Dan and Phil The Next Step Life is Strange The Life Series Caesar Musical Boy Meets World Ride The Cyclone Slay The Princess Lost and Found Music Studios Sam & Cat / Victorious / iCarly H2O Just Add Water / Mako Mermaids Disney Channel Shows/Movies (Descendants, GMW, etc.)

my ao3 ₊˚⊹♡

my tags :D #vin liveblogs - self explanatory #vin fics - all my fanfic posts (oneshots, fic updates etc) #wwy rtc - anything related to We Were Younger, my rtc multichap! #vin edits - all my edits! #vin draws - any art/drawings I post :D #vin anons - my lovely anons! currently we have 🧊 , 🦎, 🐌 , 🤖 and ⭐ but more bugs under the rock are always welcome! #my wonderful horde - mutuals!! mostly asks :) #word from the people - all asks!! ask games, anons and the like :D

#i love talking to people so please if you wanna come say hi!!#asks dms whatever idm <3 #im very socially awkward but who isn't tbh #just prepare for a bombardment of <3333333 #vin liveblogs #vin fics #vin edits #vin draws #vin anons #wwy rtc #my wonderful horde #word from the people

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teddywook · 11 months ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/teddywook/749752851153174528/httpswwwtumblrcomteddywook749699105653227520?source=share

Omggg, sí al fanfic pero con final feliiiiiz, yo no tengo tiempo, ni alta redacción para hacer uno, pero ajá, Sofff, entonces sí la conclusión es "No lo busca, pero si lo encuentra y el lo considera un verdadero amor, no lo ignoraría, sí lo pensaría, no sería un NO directo". Aunque, Soff igual yo tengo ♋️ en mi carta y leo, pero yo digo que sí a un extranjero, porque mi lado cancer dice "Que mis padres lo acepten", pero al mismo tiempo, sé que mis padres siempre y cuando sea una buena persona dirán que sí, por la parte de leo, creo que he visto que por su venus en leo, igual no? Pero en mi lado leo, yo pienso que salir con un extranjero que aparte es buena persona, te hará lucir bastante jaja. En el caso, de la luna en cáncer es cierto que soy muy apegada a mi mamá, pero ella igual mi crío con la idea de que no importa de quién me enamoré mientras me trate bien, tenga una buena vida, salga adelante, etc. Sin importar si es de mi país o no, pero yo creo que si me hubiera criado con "Manten viva a tu patria, solo son buenos los de tu país", pues igual sería algo diferente, pero quiero decir que igual depende mucho de la manera en la que su mamá le haya enseñado a ver las cosas y pues eso solo lo sabrán ellos, verdad

claro, no es como que fuera directamente buscando salirse del 'molde', tipo "voy a romper el status quo" ¿sabes? pero definitivamente no rechazaría un amor que él considere verdadero, duradero es la palabra clave a aquí. por el aspecto de leo en la carta astral no tengo mucha experiencia, mi carta está muy regida por signos de aire (mi ascendente y mi luna son libra so...) pero tengo venus en tauro y marte en sagitario lol. sin desviarme mucho, leo es un signo conocido por su deseo de sobresalir y dejar una huella (según recuerdo, no me creas mucho), así que tienes un buen punto en eso de que una pareja extranjera sería sobresalir jaja pero, si tomamos en cuenta lo previo con la aceptación y demás, ahí encontramos la lucha de ideales y emociones ¿ves?

con eso de la crianza materna tocas un aspecto importante, ahí recalcamos el deseo de querer complacer a los demás. de ser alguien de quien su familia pueda sentirse orgulloso

no puedo decir lo que haría o no a ciencia cierta, porque al final del día, cada persona es un mundo de emociones e ideologías diferentes que en conjunto crean un sin fin de opciones y oportunidades. pero si de algo estoy segura, es que cuando sungchan crea un vínculo especial y muy fuerte con su persona especial, dejaría de importar si es coreana o no

#ᥫ᭡ sof speaking #ᥫ᭡ anon #ᥫ᭡ riize soft hours #ᥫ᭡ sungchan hours #riize #riize sungchan #jung sungchan

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aaveafanfics · 1 year ago

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¡¡SOY EL FANBOY!! ¡¡HABLEMOS DE ESTE FANFIC!!

¡¡No mames el culpable!!

Fandom: Harry Potter.

Pareja: Drarry.

Idioma: Inglés (Usar traductor de Chrome)

Categoría: Divirgente al canon/Drama policial.

Sinópsis por mi: Un carta misteriosa llega al trío Dorado invitándolos a pasar el fin de semana en Malfoy Manor, ellos no han Sido los únicos invitados. Luna es quien envío las cartas.

Calificación: 💙💙💙💙💙👑

Link:

Amo los fics de Harry Auror, pero ¡¡¡HARYY DETECTIVE PRIVADO!!! Superior en todos los aspectos.

Yo me la pasé increíble leyendo esta madre, lo sentí demasiado corto, pero solo porque me la pasé demasiado bien. Amé todo, desde la negación hasta la aceptación de Harry hacia sus sentimientos, el misterio que obligó a todos a convivir, ¡¡EL PANMIONE!!, Blaise siendo un borracho divertido y obvio Narcissa Malfoy siendo hermosa.

Tengo que admitirlo, me encanta Narcissa como personaje de moral dudosa, yo me caso con esa Milf.

La historia se desenvuelve un poco lento al principio, pero un vez iniciado el misterio todo empieza correr al ritmo adecuado, las relaciones, los conflictos, preguntas a las que personajes estaban huyendo, incluso yo daba todo a qué cierto personaje había cometido el crimen, pero me equivoqué.

¡¡¡Super recomendado!!!

¡Léanlo!

#recomendaciones #fanfic #fanfic au #fanfics #harry potter series #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry #drarry fic #draco x harry #harry x draco #drarry fanfic

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kolurosa · 2 years ago

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Traducir de español a ingles.

En AO3 soy mapache_opache.

One Piece, reencarnacion AU.

Va de la primera reencarnacion a la última (de arriba a abajo):

Reencarnados; Luffy y Koby y la relación entre sus reencarnaciones.

Nika (dios sol) - Birka (dios luna). Conocidos.

Joyboy - reina Poseidon. Amigos.

Roger - Rouge. Pareja.

Luffy - Koby. ¿Amigos, Pareja también?

Luffy y Koby tienen algunos recuerdos de sus vidas pasadas pero no sentimientos hacia ellos, es más como ver una película y ser el espectador.

Me gustan esos fanfic dónde Rouge odia a Barbablanca por insultar a Roger y es por eso que Koby también odia a Barbablanca, porque indirectamente insulto a Luffy, esto complica un poco su relación con Ace pero Rouge es la que lo odio primero, así que ahí (y este es Koby no realmente Rouge).

Rouge dió a luz a gemelos mellizos que son Ace (el mayor) y Sabo (el menor), Sabo le fue robado a Garp durante su viaje al East Blue, lo descubren en algún momento.

En una isla misteriosa todos se enteran de alguna manera que Luffy y Koby son reencarnaciones, los recuerdos de Luffy se completan (y aunque Koby no esté presente también se completan sus recuerdos, estos dos tienen sus almas conectadas por eso sucede) pero siguen sin tener sentimientos hacia los recuerdos, tampoco saben que el otro recuperó sus recuerdos pero Koby sabe que de alguna manera es culpa de Luffy.

Ace y Sabo eran algunos de los que estaban presentes durante esos descubrimientos, no saben cómo reaccionar, todo es complicado pero quieren conocer (¿a su madre?) a Koby , quien está muy confundido y se siente acosado por ellos.

Luffy es Luffy y está feliz de tener una reina pirata tan asombrosa como Koby, quien sigue confundido y enamorado de Luffy.

Garp también está confundido y horrorizado (golpeó a la cazarecompensas Rouge).

Rayleigh no lo vio venir pero no está tan sorprendido como deberia.

Hancook está desconsolada (se enteró de alguna manera) y demostrará que es mejor que Koby

Todos los demás se lo toman a su manera mientras ahí puro caos de fondo.

Trama:

(Cuando son niños los revisa un doctor y durante la extracción de sangre por accidente Ace y Sabo descubren ser hermanos biológicos, así que ya lo sabían)

Los Sombrero de paja se encuentran a Ace y Sabo en Arabasta, quienes los siguen fuera de Arabasta después de derrotar a Cocodrile, llegan a la isla misteriosa descubren lo de la reencarnacion y van por caminos separados.

La pelea con Teach es igual pero Marineford es diferente, tal vez Koby no sea Rouge pero no permitirá que este chico muera, desde la distancia lo ayuda haciendo que parezca un accidente, está aliviado cuando funciona.

Nunca se encuentran cara a cara pero Koby igual evita a Ace y Sabo funciona durante dos años, hasta que Teach lo secuestra y los gemelos vienen a rescatarlo junto con Garp, más tarde hablan en la seguridad del barco de la marina, se encuentran con Luffy mientras esté escapa de la isla de Vegapunk.

¡Reunión familiar! Todos hablan, las cosas se solucionan, siguen siendo una familia muy rara y Luffy y Koby se besan después de unas cuantas citas (descubren que ambos se acuerdan de sus otras vidas).

Pareja principal: Luffy x Koby

Cualquiera puede hacer lo que quiera con este AU.

#straw hat pirates #koby #kobylu #coby one piece #luffy x koby #one piece #lukoby #coby #luffy #koby one piece

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ladyazulina · 2 years ago

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Un intento de introducción a la comunidad Writerblr

Hola a todos, soy Lady Azulina 💙 Solo Azu por estos lares. He estado pensando en hacer una presentación desde que comencé a sumergirme en la comunidad Writeblr hace quién sabe cuánto tiempo —ciertamente no yo. Pero no era capaz de decidir por dónde empezar. Todavía no lo sé, pero creo que incluso el intento más pequeño puede ser un gran paso, así que aquí vamos—quiero decir, yo. Aquí voy. Tengo muchas ganas de hacer de este espacio algo seguro para mí. Para desahogarme. Para compartir. Para ser yo incluso cuando no sé cómo ser yo. Probé Instagram. Probé Twitter. Ahora estoy probando conscientemente Tumblr. Vamos a ver cómo va esto.

2-1: Mi pronombre es ella. También soy cisgénero. Y hasta donde sé, soy heterosexual, pero no he tenido la oportunidad de probar mi sexualidad, así que no puedo estar totalmente segura. ¿Por qué lo cuento todo? ¡Ni siquiera lo sé! No me prestes atención.

2: El sol ha dado veinticuatro vueltas desde que nací. Soy de invierno. Como, un tipo de regalo de Navidad anticipado. Por cinco días solamente. Se suponía que iba a nacer en febrero, pero creo que no quería celebrar mi cumpleaños con el resto de la familia. Así que tocó Navidad. Desafortunadamente.

2+1: Legalmente soy Sagitario, pero sinceramente no sé dónde encajo. Sol en Sagitario, Luna en Capricornio y Ascendente en Acuario.

2x2: AMO los tests de personalidad. Durante la mayor parte de mi vida, fui INFP-T, pero el último resultado dice que soy ISFP-T. Mi tipo de Eneagrama es un 4 sólido, un 9 ligero. Mi color personal es serulian (#9bb7d4).

2x2+1: Empecé a escribir a los once años.

2x2+2: Creo que tengo un registro de cada escrito en todos estos años (diosa, ya son trece años).

2x2+2+1: Soy una fanática del amor, incluso cuando no quiero serlo. Soy una romántica empedernida, gente. Escribo romance incluso sin saber que estoy escribiendo romance. ¿Cómo diablos? Yo tampoco lo entiendo.

2x2x2: De la misma manera, todo lo que tenga la cantidad correcta de romance me puede entretener. Y ni siquiera tiene que ser romántico.

2x2x2+1: También soy una criatura de ficción. Cada palabra que sale de mis dedos es ficción. Tengan cuidado, estoy hablando aquí de mi escritura, puedo convertir mi vida en una obra de ficción, ¡pero no lo es! Desafortunadamente.

2x2x2+2: Sobre el tema de la ficción, salvo algunas autoinserciones (que suelen salir en forma de microrrelatos), todo lo que escribo y he escrito es absoluta y totalmente… ficción. Gezh, créanme, también estaba buscando otra palabra completamente desprevenida para llevarlos a todos allí, pero me quedé en b l a n c o. Todos conocen el sentimiento, ¿no?

12-1: Soy una chica fantasiosa. Creo que lo decidí con mi primera novela, llena de criaturas fantásticas. Aunque no he estado escribiendo allí por un tiempo, sigue siendo uno de mis géneros principales. También me gustan las cosas paranormales, no como un tema importante, pero igual se agradece su participación.

12: Me encantan los misterios, y creo que estoy tratando de escribir uno, pero no trato de resolverlos. Mi cabeza no me perdonaría si trato de empujarla tan fuerte. Sobre el mismo tema, me gustan las series de detectives.

12+1: Encontré mi amor oculto por (escribir) escenas de acción gracias a un personaje específico. Todavía estoy buscando otras maneras porque no puedo escribir con ella tanto como me gustaría.

12+2: Aparte de los que ya he mencionado, soy bastante mala identificando géneros o tropes, así que no haré eso. Si reconoces alguno en mis escritos, ¡por favor indícamelo! De esa manera puedo agregarlos a las etiquetas y así sucesivamente.

12+2+1: Por un tiempo estuve en foros de roles, así que creo que puedo decir que tengo fanfics de Digimon, Pokemon, Sword Art Online y My Hero Academia. No hace falta decir que estoy tratando de convertir todas sus historias en originales; puedo hablar de ellos cuando quiera.

12+2+2: Siempre creo personajes en parejas porque no quiero que se sientan solos como yo, aunque eso no significa que sean parejas románticas.

12+2+2+1: Estoy bastante enamorada del color azul, de ahí mi nombre, sobre todo sus tonos más claros.

12+2+2+2: ¡Mi nombre real también es relacionado al color azul! Creo que soy imparcial desde el nacimiento.

20-1: Soy una dama latina del Caribe, mi primer idioma es el español. Me encantaría que el segundo fuera lenguaje de señas, pero creo que realmente es inglés.

20: Empecé a estudiar (en la universidad) Matemáticas, pero no funcionó. Cambié a Inglés, pero tampoco está funcionando.

20+1: Mi alter ego es una editora, correctora y entrenadora de escritura, puedo servir como mediadora y como una forma de probar sus servicios como lectora beta.

22: Creo que ya es obvio, pero mi número favorito es el 2. El 02, 20 y 22 también funcionan. 12 solo porque es el mes de mi cumpleaños, ¡pero también tiene un 2!

Mimi

Estoy empezando a traducir algunas cosas al español también, así que va a tomar un tiempo para que lo que tengo de Mimi esté listo en español, pero para ya voy...

Hablaré sobre el resto de mis hermosos proyectos a medida que escriba sobre ellos. Les advierto a todos, ¡son como cientos!

#español #writerblr #escritores #¿no hay la misma cantidad de tags de escritor en español como la hay en inglés?#ya me está dando pena #¿por qué estoy haciendo esto?#communidad de escritores #escribiendo

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hide-in-imagination · 4 months ago

Text

“Roads That Cross… Not Knowing What To Do"

Thank you all so much for your continued support, it means so much to me.

Things were fine, but they also weren’t.

That night, after their hug, Simón had insisted they finished the garlands as they had set themselves to do. Ámbar truthfully couldn’t have cared less about the garlands or her original plan of getting them done— Simón had forgiven her. Nothing else mattered to her. All she wanted was to be close to him, hug him more, kiss him, reaffirm herself that they were alright— She had been so scared...

But she didn’t want to be too imposing after they’d just reconciled, so she followed his lead, and agreed to work on the decorations.

Then they had dinner with everyone, and, sure, Simón was a little less talkative than usual—especially when he got asked about his ‘headache’ and Ámbar could feel his discomfort radiating from him— but they’d gone through an emotional moment just an hour ago. It was normal if things were still a little tense.

Then they climbed up to her room, with Simón carrying the cardboard box after having offered, and after he placed it on her coffee table, Ámbar held his hand and asked if he would stay the night with her. Simón hesitated, just a little bit, but then he smiled and squeezed her hand and said, ‘of course’, and Ámbar felt so relieved that she kissed him. She kissed him gently at first, just a tiny thing, but then she sought his lips again and tried to linger, tried to deepen the contact, and that was when Simón pulled away.

“Do you want to use the bathroom first or should I?”

It wasn’t an out-of-the-ordinary question, so Ámbar answered ordinarily as well. “Uh, no, I gotta take off my makeup and do all my skincare, so it’s going to take eons— You go first.”

And he said ‘okay’ and went to the bathroom, and it was normal, seemed just like routine, but Ámbar felt it… off.

Later, as they were lying under the covers to sleep, she soaked in the normalcy of it and convinced herself everything would be fine. They had just fixed things between them, so it was normal if it felt a little weird. They were still snuggled up together in spite of that, with Ámbar’s face on his chest and Simón’s arms around her, and it felt so nice after spending a whole night alone, in this bed that felt too empty without him.

She breathed in Simón’s scent and fell asleep, thinking everything would be better the next day.

It wasn’t. Not really.

Nor was the day after that.

--------------------

There was an air of hesitation that lingered around Simón and every move he made now. It wasn’t constant— it appeared every now and then, subtle, but Ámbar noticed, and it kept her from relaxing fully into their normal routine.

It also didn’t go unnoticed that they weren’t having sex. Which was fine— they didn’t need to do that every day. But they used to. So it was… different.

She couldn’t say it was all Simón because she hadn’t tried to initiate it either. But the mood just never felt right, and that was exactly the problem.

Getting there used to be easy, and now it was not.

And that, she felt, applied to everything.

It wasn’t like Simón was distant. He didn’t avoid contact with her or acted cold— Nothing like that. She also didn’t think he was… punishing her or something because of what happened. Whatever was up with him didn’t seem to be on purpose— In fact, it seemed like he wanted it gone just as much as she did. But it kept coming back.

The worst part was that Ámbar couldn’t address it. What could she say? Ask if there was anything wrong? She knew there was. And she knew it had to be related to her lies and her secrets, so she couldn’t bring it up because that would just lead to questions she couldn’t answer.

It was distressing.

And then, as if Ámbar didn’t have enough problems, Sharon happened.

------------------

The final nail in the coffin came in the form of a phone call— Again. Ámbar was in the mansion, working, when her phone started ringing, and every thought of the upcoming event she was overseeing flew out of her mind when she read the caller id.

‘Vanessa.’

Ámbar rejected the call. It was the middle of the day and the last thing she wanted was to talk to her godmother. After all the trouble she had caused her. After all the pain she kept putting her through because of her inability to do things right.

Ámbar put her phone on vibrate and continued working. But not two minutes passed by before her phone started vibrating, and when she didn’t pick up that call either, her screen lit up with a new message.

Vanessa: Pick up the phone, Ámbar.

When her phone started vibrating for the third time, Ámbar finally gave up and answered it. With a bit of luck, she would make it quick, and then she could go back to try to not let Sharon ruin her life.

“What do you want? It’s the middle of the day, I’m working.”

“Ámbar.” The sound of her name in her voice always brought her an ominous feeling. “How kind of you to finally pick up. Since you’re going straight to the point, allow me to do so as well,” Sharon said drily. “I heard from Rey that not only do you refuse to help me, but you’ve been also wandering around the mansion, searching for ways to stop my plans.”

Ámbar growled internally. That damned Rey— He’d fallen onto her clutches again, right when she’d had hope that Maggie had managed to convince him for good. Not only that, but he had tattled on her to her godmother after she specifically told him, threatened him, to keep his mouth shut.

Must everything go the opposite way of how I want it to?

“I don’t know what Rey told you, but I have no ulterior motives,” she replied as casually as she could. “I’m just working from home because all the noise at the Roller was distracting me.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Ámbar; you’ve tested my patience enough already,” Sharon shut her down with a scathing tone. “I want you to stop this absurd rebellion you have against me immediately. Whether you like it or not, you and I are on the same side. The Valente will never forgive you for helping me, and you know that perfectly well. That’s the reason why you haven’t told them anything despite wasting your time pestering me, or am I wrong?”

Ámbar clenched her eyes shut. Maybe at some point that had been one of her worries, but it was never the main one, couldn’t she see? “I don’t want to have to tell them anything— I just want you to stop this before you ruin your life,” she begged.

All she wanted was to keep her safe. Everyone safe. Was that so much to ask? Couldn’t this war just end?

“And I want you to stop meddling with my plans, so listen carefully,” Sharon said in a hard voice. “Either you let Rey and Maggie do their jobs or I’ll be making a call to your two-bit boyfriend.”

Ámbar’s heart stopped. Every muscle on her body seized, quick and violently with the impetus of dread.

“What?”

She could hear Sharon’s sadistic smile on the phone. “I imagine you don’t want him to know about our conversations. How do you think he will react when he finds out you’ve been helping me since last year, pretending to be Sol Benson when you knew Luna was the real one?”

Ámbar shook her head. “You can’t do that.”

“No? How long do you think it’d take me to get his phone number? Half an hour? Less than?”

Ámbar swallowed her saliva, her mouth as dry as a desert, and took in a shaky breath. “No, you can’t do that because, if you do, I’ll talk,” she said. “I’ll tell them everything I know— Your new identity, that Rey and Maggie are helping you— everything about your plan.”

“So I’ll make another one,” Sharon replied easily, sinking Ámbar’s stomach to the ground. “I have time and resources. Rey and Maggie too are expandable. I could get other people to help me.” Her voice lost its levity then, gaining a dark edge to it. “One way or another, I will have my revenge, Ámbar. Now you can either stay on my side like you’ve always done, or face the consequences all by yourself. It’s your choice. This is your one and final warning.”

She hung up the phone.

Ámbar sat there, frozen from head to toe, trying to convince herself that this wasn’t happening, that it was just another nightmare. But the more she stayed there, the more achingly clear it became that this was reality.

She’s not going to stop.

The feeling sunk in and her chest started clenching. Panic.

She’s not going to stop. There’s nothing I can do. I have to tell them.

But Sharon, the other part of her wept. What will happen to her? I don’t want anything to happen to her. Why does it have to be me?

She could tell Maggie to do it. Maggie could give them all away— it wouldn’t have to be Ámbar.

But even then, the moment they were captured, either Rey or Sharon would make sure to tell everyone that Ámbar knew. They would want her to go down with them.

Simón would find out that Ámbar knew, and once again, she wouldn’t get the chance to explain anything to him because she wasn’t the one who told him.

But I don’t want to tell him. I want to be happy. I want us to continue being happy for a little longer.

Wouldn’t Simón choose the same? To remain in blissful ignorance for a little longer instead of going through heartbreak? Anyone would choose happiness, right?

Especially now that the Day of the Dead Roller Jam was coming up. She couldn’t ruin this for him. Maybe she could tell him after, but not right now.

Yeah, after. She could tell him after. At some point. She could do that.

She had to… she had to focus on the event first, and then on fixing whatever weird thing was up with her relationship with Simón, and then when things were good between them again, she could unveil everything, and maybe… maybe he’d understand. Maybe everything would be fine. Maybe…

Ámbar spent was felt like hours trying to calm down her pulse. She had no idea what a panic attack felt like, but she imagined the starts of one felt like this— like shortness of breath and a knot behind her sternum, so she had to calm down, think of something else.

She worked on decorations, one after another, focusing on the repetitive movements, and eventually, it worked. Her mind was getting clearer.

Then Rey walked in through the front door, passing by the lobby, and Ámbar saw red.

She was out of her seat in a fraction of a second. She yanked him into the empty dining room by his suit jacket and turned to him with such a fierce glare it should’ve killed him.

“How could you rat on me with Sharon?” She snarled. “You do know I can talk, right? I warned you, Rey. I told you not tomess with me. Are you out of your mind? Do you truly care more about Sharon than your own damn safety now?”

“I'm going to expressly ask you to calm down,” Rey seethed through gritted teeth, “and to not lay a single hand on me again because we both know you have a lot to lose from all of this.”

Ámbar scoffed and shook her head. “I don’t get it. I swear to god, I can not understand it— How can you not see this is reaching the end of the line, Rey? Any moment now, my godmother is going to sneak into this house because she is obsessed with that stupid chest, and she’s going to get caught, and then she, you, and Maggie are going get sent straight to a prison cell— You should be stopping her, not helping her!”

“Your godmother is not going to back out, miss,” Rey said with certainty, spitting the last word with venom. “She is unyieldingly set on destroying the Valente. And ensuring she doesn’t get caught doing it is my job. All you have to do, as you’ve done until now, is remain quiet.”

“I can’t, Rey, Ican’t— This is wrong,” Ámbar said in agony. “The Valente don’t deserve this— God, not even you and Maggie deserve this. Do you know what she told me?” She expressed with incredulity. “Do you know what Sharon told me when she called me earlier? That you’re replaceable,” she affirmed. “That she doesn’t care if you and Maggie go to jail because she can just pay someone else to do her dirty work. Open your eyes, Rey. This is going to end badly for everyone.”

Rey reared his head back a little. A few emotions flashed through his eyes—Fear, Ámbar was almost certain, and something that looked like hurt— but then all of that was gone as he put his firm expression back.

“I don’t believe a single word you say,” he enunciated strongly. “Your godmother considers me her right-hand man— I’ve spent years supporting her in everything she’s ever endeavored and she recognizes that.” Ámbar closed her eyes and shook her head, frustrated, distraught, but Rey kept talking. “You just want to confuse me because you’re scared of what your little boyfriend might think of all this. Sharon already warned me that you might react this way. But that’s all the more reason for you to keep your mouth shut. And I know you will.”

He leaned forward and looked her right in the eye. “You always do what’s most convenient for you. You can stop pretending otherwise.”

Rey straightened the jacket of his suit and walked away, leaving her standing there.

And Ámbar…

Ámbar hit the spot where he had been on the wall and drowned her fingers in her hair.

She couldn’t take this anymore.

------------------------

Later that night, as they were getting ready for bed, Ámbar put on a smile and turned to face Simón.

“Good news! Well, I hope it’s good news. Starting from tomorrow, I’m going to work in the Roller again.”

Simón finished putting on his sleep shirt and blinked in her direction. “Oh. You’re not going to work from home anymore? I thought you could focus better that way.”

Ámbar avoided his gaze by pulling back the covers. “Mm, maybe, but the Roller Jam is this Friday and I need to be where the action’s at.” She sat on the bed and reached for his hand. “Besides, I miss being able to see my favorite person all day.”

Simón’s expression showed a hundred different questions. He was suspicious—Of course he was. Her decision to start working from home had been abrupt, and now she was coming back to the Roller just as abruptly. It could be just whims. Ámbar was known to have them. But Simón wasn’t stupid.

He wasn’t, but he just showed a little smile and said nothing.

They got under the covers after that, and again, the air between them wasn’t tense, but it was different.

Maybe this different was their new normal. With everything she had done and was still doing, maybe she didn’t deserve more than this. Maybe it was something she had to get used to.

Ámbar buried her face in Simón’s neck and tried not to cry.

-------------------

On her very first day back in the Roller, she was surprised to find people happy to see her working there.

“We were starting to miss seeing you at that table,” Eric told her with a gentle smile. “I’ll bring you your usual juice right up.”

Ámbar blinked as he went to the bar. “Thank you…”

And then Ramiro smiled at her as well. “The Roller’s not the same without you, so welcome back.”

Warmth gathered inside of Ámbar. Everything looked so bleak lately that sometimes she forgot she had good relationships now— She wasn’t in the dark pit she once resided in. She didn’t have friendships based on hostility now. She wasn’t the pariah, completely alone, shunned by everyone. She wasn’t even that girl who only had friends because of the popularity she exuded.

She had genuine bonds now. Because she didn’t pretend anymore, nor did she attack anymore, and, surprisingly, some people seemed to like her without any facades.

Delfi saw her working on decorations in the afternoon and offered to help her with them. Ámbar felt a surge of joy and readily said yes— If there was one bond she was happy to have back, it was that one. This new go at their friendship was still rocky, but she felt like it got better every time they talked, and that was exactly what they did as they made the handicrafts— Talk, leisurely, casually, gloriously light and breezy with no particular direction.

Some minutes after they sat down to do that, Jim and Yam saw them working and asked to join in too. It took Ámbar by surprise, but the Roller Jam was just around the corner and she had to get these done, so the more hands, the better. She accepted gratefully.

Then Jazmín arrived and claimed she didn’t want to be excluded, so she started helping too. Ramiro joined in as well soon after, followed by Nina, and before Ámbar knew it, she had a whole group gathered on the Roller’s stage, all making decorations together. Even Simón and Pedro took a break to join them.

It felt so nice. Seeing everyone talking and working together… Feeling part of a group... Ámbar was pretty independent, and she didn’t mind doing things alone, but it was nice to be able to turn her brain off for a minute and let herself be carried by a cheerful current.

So, of course, something had to ruin it.

“What if we put candles around the rink like they do in México?” Jazmín proposed with sparkling eyes.

“It’d be very pretty, but also very dangerous, so let’s better not,” Simón kindly shot down her well-meaning but poor idea.

“Yeah, did you forget already how the rink caught fire last year?” Pedro said.

It was like a black hole had sucked out all the calm they’d felt until that moment. Ámbar’s chest contracted, and one could’ve heard a pin drop in the silence that followed.

Many stares fell on her at once.

Simón turned to his friend with a reproachful look. “Pedro.”

Even in the awkwardness, it made her a little happy to see him jump in her defense, but Ámbar didn’t want this to turn into an argument, so she hurried to intervene.

“No, it’s okay, you don’t have to censure yourselves for me,” she told them. The fire was something that happened and that affected everyone— It was bound to come up every now and then.

She didn’t want it to be a taboo topic forever. She didn’t want everyone’s eyes to turn judgmental and distrustful every time they talked about last year.

Of course, there wasn’t much she could do about that, but… there was one thing.

Ámbar cleared her throat a little, joining her hands in her lap to stop them from fidgeting. “Since you’re all gathered here, I’d like to take the opportunity to apologize about the fire.” She glanced at them. “I know most of you won’t believe me, but it really was an accident, and I’m sorry about that. And…” She brought her gaze down to her hands. “I’m sorry about the other stuff I did too.” There were so many she couldn’t even count them. She squirmed a little with discomfort and rushed her words, looking up. “I know that just saying it is not enough and that it’s going to take a while for you to see I really changed, but either way, I…”

Ámbar had to look away again. She was not good at this. “I don’t know, I just… wanted to… say that.”

Lame. That ending was so lame.

She stood up quickly. If she had to sit through one more awkward silence, she was going to jump off the roof. “I’ll go check the decorations in the rink.”

Ámbar walked away, fighting a grimace. God, she couldn’t believe she had done that.

But that’s it. I did it. It’s done now.

She knew she had to apologize at some point— it probably should’ve been item 1 on her list if she meant to mend her ways, actually. She should’ve planned more how she was going to do it, maybe rehearse the words or something, but the important part was that it was done, right? Better an improvised speech than nothing.

Once in the rink, Ámbar went over to her worktable, looking for something to do. There were a couple of skull decorations that could use a second coat of paint, so she gathered her brushes and the paints to do just that.

Before she could start working on the first, though, she heard footsteps approaching, and when she turned her head toward the sound, she saw Simón had come after her.

Oh.

She thought she’d have a little more time before she had to talk about it.

Simón stood barely two steps away from her, and her eyes flicked back to the decorations. She couldn’t ignore him though, obviously, so Ámbar placed the skull and the brush carefully back on the table and wiped her hands on her clothes before facing him, even though they were clean.

“On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad was that apology?” She tried to joke, letting out an awkward huff of laughter.

Simón didn’t hold a fraction of her tension though. The smile that grew on his lips filled his whole face with warmth. His brown eyes looked at her with an incredible softness.

“It was great.”

Ámbar almost got speechless seeing such fondness directed at her. Simón grabbed one of her hands in both his own and held it between their chests. He caressed it gently with his thumb.

“That couldn’t have been easy. I didn’t expect Pedro to bring up the fire so out of the blue, I think it took all of us aback, but you handled it so well.” His hands squeezed hers. “You spoke from the heart, and I think the guys realized that too.” He took a step closer to her, his face absolutely beaming. “So, from one to ten, a hundred, bonita. A thousand. I’m very proud of you, my love.”

Oh.

Suddenly, Ámbar tried to remember if he had called her that the past few days. He had, of course, he had. But not like this. Not with that tone in his voice. Not with eyes so affectionate they kicked her heart into overdrive.

“Yeah?” Her voice came out too breathy, so she cleared her throat and spoke again, fast, a little clumsy. “I mean, I should’ve done it a long time ago, really. And maybe better. But it was the right thing to do, and, like I said, it’s not that I think this will fix everything; it’s not that easy. But at least—”

Simón held her face and kissed her. It wasn’t a hard kiss, but it was enough to cut off her nervous thoughts and leave her mind pleasantly blank.

“You were great,” he told her again, close.

Ámbar smiled, a mirror reflex from seeing him smile so beautifully, and welcomed his lips when he kissed her again.

And that night, their kisses did linger, and the contact did deepen, and Simón held her closer and closer. It was heady, and slow, and consuming.

It was easy.

*****************

“I’ll go check the decorations in the rink.”

Simón followed Ámbar with his eyes as she walked away, his heart doing a weird thing where it seemed like it wanted to squeeze and expand at the same time. Around him, his friends were just as quiet as him.

It was Nina who broke the silence. “Wow.”

Simón brought his gaze back to the group and saw similar expressions of surprise on everyone’s faces. The good kind.

“Is this the same Ámbar or did someone switch her with a clone?” Yam said in disbelief.

“I told you guys she had changed,” Delfi said with some superiority.

Simón couldn’t stay to hear more after that, possessed with the need to go to Ámbar.

His heart was thrumming as he walked toward the rink. It was a rush of elation, an invigorating mix of relief and love that started building the moment Ámbar started to speak. See? It screamed. I wasn’t wrong. I’m not wrong for believing in Ámbar. I never was.

It’d been hard the last few days. The constant fight against the voices in his head, rationality and emotion working on different wavelengths, and him, caught in the middle.

But that apology had been a balm to his anxious brain. Empiric proof that Ámbar was different from how she was before. Simón felt aligned again. He had hope. Sometimes, that was all he needed.

Things were much better after that day. They were good, actually. Their time spent at the Roller felt like old times. Everyone was smiling, excited by the upcoming Roller Jam, and the smiles didn’t dim around Ámbar anymore. Everyone worked together on the final preparations for the event. It was almost like they were all friends again.

In between waiting tables, Simón showed off his costume for the party to Ámbar and then stored it in the dressing room, ready for Friday. He was excited about sharing a little piece of his culture with his friends and with everyone who showed up, lured in by the decorations, and the food, and the music.

Ámbar said her costume was ready too. She refused to let him see it though, insisting on keeping it a surprise for the big day.

She really loves her secrets, doesn’t she?

Simón shot down the intrusive thought. He’d been doing that a lot lately. They kept popping up, but he wasn’t going to let them fester, especially for something like this. He loved surprises. It was fun.

Time flew by and suddenly it was the last night before the big event. At dinner, it was all everyone was talking about: Luna told her parents that they had to go check it out, even if only for a little bit. Mr. Alfredo invited himself too, which, of course, everyone agreed with. The guys went over the itinerary with Ámbar, especially Pedro and Simón, who would be on the employee side of things, and Michel marveled about how he was getting the best student exchange experience ever, because he didn’t only get to learn about one new culture, but two.

After dinner, when everyone had finished their food and the first few were excusing themselves to go up to their rooms, Maggie finished picking all the dishes from the table and turned to Ámbar with a smile.

“Ámbar, sweetie, want to do the dishes with me like last time? So I’m not so lonely doing it?”

Ámbar looked a little surprised, and bemused, by the invitation. Honestly, Simón was too. Maggie didn’t usually ask anyone to do things with her. Mónica sometimes offered, and Ámbar offered once as well, but that was it.

“Yeah, sure,” Ámbar replied after a moment, smiling, and got up from her chair. Simón thought of how much she’d changed from the conceited girl he met when he first arrived in Buenos Aires. That Ámbar would’ve never agreed to something like that, much less with a smile on her face. “Goodnight,” she told Simón, placing her hand shortly on his shoulder. She couldn’t openly say ‘See you later’ in front of Luna’s parents.

“Goodnight,” Simón said back, and watched her disappear inside the kitchen with Maggie. He stayed talking with his friends for a little longer and then excused himself and went up to Ámbar’s room.

The first thing he did was kick off his shoes and throw himself on the bed. He was tired from work, but also so excited about tomorrow he wasn’t sure how he was going to sleep. He knew he had to catch some good hours though— There was going to be a lot of movement tomorrow, lots of customers, and then a party. Hell, he even had a performance! He definitely had to sleep.

It was still early though, so he checked social media for a while, and then turned on the TV.

He had just opened Netflix when Ámbar walked into the room.

“Hey, just in time,” he greeted her, smiling. “I was thinking of watching a movie or something. What do you think?”

Ámbar blinked at him for a moment and then at the screen. “Um… Yeah, sure,” she said softly. “I mean, if you want.”

“I think I’ve been picking the movies for a little too long,” Simón joked self-critically. “You pick something.” He offered her the remote. “Whatever you want.”

Ámbar looked at the remote for a moment before taking it. “Okay.”

She went to the bed and Simón scooted over to his side to make space for her. Not like there was much space to give, the bed was small, but that wasn’t a problem when they were used to touching anyway.

Ámbar sat next to him, crossed-legged, and began to scroll through the different titles.

A moment passed. Simón watched her profile.

“You okay?”

Ámbar’s eyes moved from the screen to him. “Hm?” It took her a second to process the question. “Yeah, why?”

“Nothing, just, you’re a little quiet.” Ever since she came in, actually.

“Oh. No. I’m just focused on finding something,” she said, and brought her gaze back to the screen. “I don’t know if I want to watch a movie though— Maybe something shorter. With a faster pace. I don’t know, distracting.”

Ah.

Simón brushed back a lock of her hair and caressed her face softly with his knuckles.

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

If he was going to have a hard time sleeping, he could only imagine how she was feeling.

Ámbar met his eyes. There was something in hers, something familiar, like something he’d seen there before, but she lowered her gaze before he could discern exactly what. She could’ve stayed quiet and it would’ve still been obvious something was up. She confirmed it anyway. “A little.”

Simón cupped her face, waited until she looked back at him to give her his most reassuring smile. “It’s going to be amazing,” he told her with certainty. “You’ll see. You’ve worked too hard for it not to.”

Ámbar smiled.

The both of them focused on the screen after that to find something to watch. They ended up deciding on a sitcom, and they settled together with their backs against the pillows and Simón’s arm around Ámbar.

Simón enjoyed the show, but Ámbar still seemed a little distracted. She laughed a little late at the jokes, and was a little restless, moving her fingers constantly, checking her phone every few minutes, sometimes even seconds apart, as if she hadn’t looked at it right the first time.

She had to be really nervous, Simón thought. Ámbar had a tendency of being a perfectionist, and a little workaholic, so he wouldn’t be surprised if she was checking work emails even now. God knew it wouldn’t be the first time he caught her doing that after work hours.

After the second episode ended, Ámbar detached herself from his side and sat up. She shoved her phone into the pocket of her jeans as she turned to look at him.

“You know what? I think I’m gonna make myself some tea in the kitchen, maybe even something to eat, I don’t know— I’ll be back, okay?”

She started to get up but Simón caught her arm.

“Want me to get it for you?” He offered. It was the least he could do. All of tomorrow’s event was basically for his sake. “That way you don’t have to move.”

Ámbar showed him a smile but declined swiftly. “No, thank you, I’ll do it, don’t worry.”

She stood. Simón did as well. “No, really, I don’t mind.” He walked over to the other side of the bed to stand in front of her. “I mean,” he smiled playfully, “what use is the best Mexican boyfriend in the world if he can’t even bring his girlfriend food in bed?” He let out a little laugh. “Come on, what do you want? I believe you said tea. What flavor should I bring?”

“I don’t know, love, that’s why I want to go myself, let me do it.”

“Oh but that’s no problem, I can bring different options for you to choose, like before.” He felt a surge of amusement and fondness, remembering that time. “It’ll take me a little longer but—”

“Enough.”

Simón stopped in his tracks.

“That’s enough, Simón,I said ‘No, thank you.’ I’m very grateful, but I’m perfectly capable of doing things by myself. I’m going. Now drop it.”

Ámbar said it all sharp and fast, in one go, like exasperated.

Simón stood very still. His train of thought had turned to nothing.

Ámbar winced looking at his face and sighed. Her whole body softened and she moved closer to him, placing her hands on his shoulders gently.

She caressed them as she spoke. “Look. We’re both tired. Tomorrow’s a big day. Why don’t you stay here, rest, put on a movie like you wanted to, and I’ll watch it with you once I’m back, okay?” She kissed his cheek. “Wait for me.”

With that, she pulled away and walked out of the bedroom.

Simón stared at the door in her absence. Strange. All of that had been too strange. One second, they were fine, and the next, she was snapping at him with a hard voice— She didn’t have to get so defensive over something like that.

Unless it wasn’t about that.

Why was she so desperate for me to stay here?

Simón walked over to the door, and his hand was already on the handle when he stopped himself.

“No.” He let go and turned around, letting out a huff of laughter. “No, come on, what am I doing?”

Why would Ámbar lie about going to the kitchen? It was ridiculous. He was paranoid. What did he want to do? Go down there and make sure she was actually there?

What if she isn’t?

Simón shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. He was overthinking it. Yes, she was acting a little strange, but she was nervous. Worried and stressed about tomorrow. That was most probably why she lashed out too, but she realized her mistake and changed her tune immediately. Those things happened under stress.

He decided to stop dwelling on it and walked over to his side of the bed. He picked up his phone from the nightstand and checked the time. It wasn’t that late yet. He placed it back on the nightstand, and was about to put on a movie, like Ámbar said, as a distraction, when a thought struck him.

Her phone.

Simón’s heart stuttered. He flicked his eyes toward the opposite nightstand. It was empty. His feet brought him over to it as if to make sure, and then he looked around, over the vanity, the table. Nothing.

He remembered he’d seen her putting it in her pocket.

His stomach sunk low.

She took her phone with her.

Simón’s mind went into overdrive. Ámbar had been checking her phone incessantly since she walked into the room, hadn’t she? He thought it was work emails—What if it wasn’t? Why would she bring her phone to make herself tea?

Maybe just to pass the time?? A critical voice retorted in his head. You’re exaggerating.

Was he? Because it was all adding up. She’d been acting strange, distracted, checking her phone instead of focusing on the show, and now, suddenly, she wanted to be alone so badly that she basically ordered him to stay here, and she took her phone with her.

She could’ve taken it without thinking, it’s not that big of a deal, the voice reproached again. It sounded like himself. Like his old self. The one who had stronger views of right and wrong.

Good thing that she took it too or you would’ve already gone through it with the way you’re acting right now.

Simón stopped pacing at once. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it.

No. Absolutely not.He was not that kind of boyfriend.

He kept repeating that in his head while he fought the urge to go to the kitchen. I’m not like that, I don’t want to be like that, I won’t do it—

But his eyes kept glancing at the door.

**********************

“Ámbar, sweetie, want to do the dishes with me like last time? So I’m not so lonely doing it?”

Upon receiving Maggie’s invitation, Ámbar immediately got a bad feeling in her gut. Maggie’s expression was sweet and chirpy— overly so, if you knew how she really was, which was a clear indicator that something was up. Ámbar saw it in her eyes. ‘Come with me’ they urged.

Ámbar did so. Once in the kitchen, Maggie handed her a pair of gloves, the same ones she’d used last time, and for a moment, they just washed the dishes normally.

“Sorry about that, but I needed to talk to you,” Maggie started in a quiet voice.

“Yeah, I figured, what happened?” Ámbar said in the same volume.

“Well, you didn’t hear it from me but…” Maggie looked around quickly, making sure there was no one near. She leaned closer. “I overheard Rey talking on the phone with Sharon. She’s going to sneak into the house tonight.”

Ámbar’s heart leaped. “What? At what time? Right now?” She expelled in a rush.

“I don’t know!” Maggie whisper-yelled too. “Rey didn’t even tell me about it— I only heard him because I noticed he was acting weird and spied on him. Clearly, he’s being very cautious.”

Ámbar scrubbed the plate in her hands to let out some of her nervous energy. She should’ve known it was only a matter of time before this happened. She wasn’t expecting to hear about it, though. Now that she had the information, what was she supposed to do with it?

“Why are you telling me?” She asked Maggie. If Rey didn’t even tell her about it, clearly the plan was exclusively between him and Sharon.

“I don’t know, I thought maybe you could do something about it and save us all from going to prison?” She suggested. The fear and urgency in her voice were evident, and in her movements as she washed the dishes too. “I mean, it’s too risky coming here again after she was almost caught twice before. I’m telling you, Sharon has completely lost her mind.”

Ámbar lowered her gaze to the sink. She felt her heart drop to her stomach, wilted like a two-week rose. “I know. But there’s nothing I can do to stop her,” she admitted ruefully. “I’ve tried everything; it’s useless.”

Maggie sighed heavily. “Rey too. For a moment, I thought I had gotten through to him but… Ugh! I don’t know what enchantment that woman pulled him under.” She scrubbed the dishes with more force. “So, what do we do?”

Ámbar watched the suds and food scraps drip down the drain. Her voice came out hopeless. “I don’t know.”

The two washed the dishes in silence for a while. Ámbar got lost in her thoughts. Thoughts of how she wished things had gone differently. Thoughts of all the things she could do… and all the consequences those decisions could bring.

Maggie broke the silence after some minutes. “If they catch her…” Ámbar’s heart faltered. “Could you please tell everyone that I tried to stop this?”

Ámbar looked to the side, meeting her gaze. Maggie drew a tiny smile on her lips. It looked gloomy. “My designer clothes weren’t made for jail.”

Once more, Ámbar was made very aware of all the lives that were entangled in Sharon’s plot. Everything that could be ruined if she talked. Everything that could be ruined if she didn’t.

She wondered if Rey had told Maggie about what Sharon told her on the phone, about replacing them, her disregard for their safety.

Even if he didn’t, Maggie seemed to know. She wouldn’t be asking her this otherwise.

“Yeah, I’ll tell them,” Ámbar promised. She couldn’t control many things, but this she could do.

She went up to her room with a thousand thoughts raging through her mind. Of course, Simón noticed. He always noticed when something was up with her, even if he didn’t know why.

Outwardly, Ámbar tried to seem composed while her pulse galloped with anxiety, harder every minute. She couldn’t stop looking at the time, wondering if Sharon had already entered the mansion or if she hadn’t yet; wondering if she should talk, right now, put an end to everything once and for all, or stay out of it and hope it resolved by itself. Maybe someone else would catch her. Maybe something would come up and Sharon wouldn’t sneak in at all. But if she did— How could she waste such an opportunity to stop her? But if she didn’t, Ámbar would just be ending her peaceful days prematurely for nothing. But it wouldn’t be for nothing— It was the right thing to do. But she had the event tomorrow. But that wasn’t the most important thing. But—

The second episode of the sitcom ended and Ámbar couldn’t have said what any of the character’s names were. She had to leave. She had to do something.

But Simón was being inopportunely sweet, and ugh—

She walked out of her room feeling like a rope frayed to the last thread, tugged in all directions. She had to move, or she was going to break.

Ámbar sped over to Sharon’s room. There was no one inside when she walked in. Was she late? Had it already happened?

She pulled out her phone to call Sharon but then stopped herself short. She couldn’t call her— What if she was already making her way inside and the ringtone alerted everyone of her presence? Same thing with a message. She wanted to believe Sharon wouldn’t be so stupid as to not set her phone on silent mode, but she hadn’t been making the most rational decisions lately, so she didn’t know.

She chose to hide somewhere and wait. Everyone hadn’t gone to bed that long ago— it was unlikely her godmother had been in and out already. The curtains next to the bed were long enough to hide her feet, so Ámbar got behind them and turned to the window, which gave her a view of the front yard of the house.

She didn’t know how long she spent standing there, looking out. It was probably just a few minutes, but her nerves were strung tight, and it felt like hours. She thought she saw something at some point, but it was dark and she was high up, and there was the chance that Sharon wouldn’t even use the main entrance to walk in. All the uncertainty and the waiting did nothing to assuage her heart rate.

Then she heard someone opening the door.

Ámbar held her breath. Her senses zeroed in on every little noise, cataloging each of them, discerning.

Heels. She could clearly hear the sound of heels walking on wooden floor.

Ámbar pushed the curtain aside and stepped forward.

In a red hair wig and a similar dress to the one she’d seen before, Sharon stopped in her tracks and spun around quickly, reacting to the sound of footsteps other than her own, and her wide eyes met Ámbar’s in the semi-darkness.

Sharon’s posture relaxed, just slightly, when she saw it was her. That was a mistake. Ámbar would let her know.

“What are you doing here?” Sharon’s voice was accusatory.

“I should be asking you that.” Ámbar marched across the room, passing by Sharon and standing between her and the bookshelf that concealed the secret chest. “I told you it was too dangerous. But, of course, you wouldn’t listen to me. You don’t listen to anyone but yourself.”

“I don’t have time for sermons, Ámbar,” Sharon said dismissively and tried to go toward the bookshelf.

Ámbar stood in her way.

Sharon glared at her with irritation.

“Step aside.”

“No.”

Sharon’s eyes threatened murder. “Ámbar.”

“What’s most important to you?” She asked. “Whatever’s in that chest or your revenge?”

“Both,” Sharon spat darkly, and tried to push past her, but Ámbar blocked her way again.

“No, you don’t get both.” Her voice was strong and resolute. Her posture firm. “You’re in a checkmate, godmother. One scream from me and all your plans are over— Rey will not be able to save you in time. You’ll have to pay for what you did.”

Sharon looked at her appraisingly, taking her words for what they were— A threat.

Her lips curled into an ironic smile. “So, it’s finally come to this, huh?" She shook her head. "Raise crows and they will poke out your eyes.”

Ámbar didn’t respond to that proverb. This wasn’t a betrayal. She told herself it wasn’t. “I’m giving you a choice,” she made clear. “Take whatever is inside that chest, leave all of us alone, for good, and you can spend the rest of your days building an empire somewhere else or whatever it is that you want. But if you insist on your stupid revenge, I promise you, I will personally make sure to stop you, even if you manage to escape tonight, which seems very unlikely.”

Sharon watched her in silence, and Ámbar could see in her expression that she knew it too— Right now, the cards weren’t in her favor.

“So, I ask you again,” Ámbar said with finality. “What’s more important to you?”

The two took each other’s measure, unblinking, unmoving.

Sharon spoke flatly. “Step aside.”

“No.”

“Move, Ámbar,” she reiterated with annoyance. “I’ll take what’s mine and go. Far away,” she clarified. She was conceding. “So long as you keep your end of the bargain as well.”

Ámbar hesitated. Could she trust her to keep her word? Could she trust her own vow of hunting her to the ends of the Earth if she didn’t?

Ironically, it was Simón’s words that crossed her mind.

For someone to change, you have to give them a chance to do so.

Sharon wasted no time in advancing toward the bookshelf once Ámbar stepped out of the way. The furniture made a clicking noise as the secret compartment was revealed, and Sharon pulled the little doors open to access the chest inside. Ámbar stood with her arms crossed in front of her chest, watching as Sharon pulled the key out of her purse, hoping she wouldn’t regret this later.

She had to look away as she opened it. What if this was a terrible mistake? What if whatever was in that chest was even worse than the revenge she wanted to inflict on the Valentes? What if—

The sound of struggle reached her ears. Metal against metal, wood being shaken, followed by an angry tsk of Sharon’s tongue.

“It’s not working— This is not the right key!” She fumed.

Ámbar whipped her head toward her. “What?” How could it be the wrong key? Right when she’d made a deal with her? “Are you sure? Here, let me try—”

She reached for the key, but Sharon twirled around quickly, blocking her way to the chest. “No!” She exclaimed, frantic. “I don’t want you anywhere near this chest, you hear me? Especially you. And Luna.”

Ámbar frowned, both at her exaggerated reaction and the words that came with it. What did she mean ‘especially you and Luna?’

She didn’t get to ask about it because, right then, the knob of the door rattled as someone tried to open it. Sharon had had the good sense to lock it when she walked in, but that didn’t change the fact that there was someone outside the door right now, someone who then knocked when they couldn’t push it open.

“Hello?” It was Luna. “Is someone there?”

Time seemed to slow down around Ámbar. It was over. The key didn’t work, so Sharon couldn’t have what was in the chest, and without that, their deal was void, so she couldn’t risk letting her go— She had to give her away. Now.

Her eyes met her godmother’s, and she knew from the look in them that she was thinking the same thing.

There was fear in them. Ámbar didn’t think she had ever seen her that scared before, with the certainty of doom paling her face, and never with that look directed at her.

Ámbar didn’t think. She just acted.

“Hide.”

Time started moving again.

Ámbar went to the door and turned the key to unlock it. Before opening it, she took a glance behind her back, making sure Sharon wasn’t visible. She couldn’t spot her.

She opened the door just enough to show herself to Luna.

“Luna, hi, sorry for locking the door.”

“Ámbar?” Luna looked at her with her face wrinkled in confusion. “What are you doing in Sharon’s room?”

“You have no idea what just happened.” Ámbar walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. Years of pretending to be good paid out now, fueling her improvisation. “I was coming back from the kitchen when I started hearing some weird noises. I thought they were footsteps and I got scared— I thought maybe Sharon had come here again, so I came to her room, but there was no one. I haven’t seen anyone else either, or heard anything since then. I think maybe I imagined it all. I’ve been paranoid since the last time she came here.”

Luna’s eyes fluttered with surprise. “Wow, I— I haven’t heard anything. I was in my room and wanted to come here, and I didn’t see anything on the way either, maybe you did imagine things.” Ámbar nodded her head. Luna frowned. “Wait— And why did you lock the door?”

Her heart jumped to her throat. “Because I’m paranoid,” Ámbar said. “Like I said, I got scared that maybe someone was here and they were going to try and come for the chest, so I locked myself inside, and then you knocked on the door and almost gave me a heart attack.” That part was actually true.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Luna apologized. She lowered her gaze a little shyly, fidgeting with her fingers. “I just— Since tomorrow we’ll be celebrating the Day of the Dead at the Roller, I got a little sentimental and I thought maybe I could search for some pictures of Lily and Bernie.” Her eyes looked at the door wistfully. “This used to be their room, before. Would you help me look?”

Her hand reached for the handle but Ámbar blocked her way. “No, no, I don’t think it’d be a good idea.” She contorted her face into an image of empathy. “I mean, if you’re already feeling kind of sad about it, I think seeing pictures would only make you feel worse. Maybe tomorrow,” she suggested, “with the whole Roller Jam and everything, you’ll be in better spirits and you can search then.”

“Well, I’m not feeling that sad really—”

“And now that you mention it—” She needed to get her away from here, now. “You know, I have a problem with my costume for tomorrow, you think you could help me?”

Luna frowned. “Me?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re from México, and there’s something about it that doesn’t seem quite right to me. Maybe I’m exaggerating, but I’d like a second opinion. Could you come to my room and check it out with me?”

“Simón is from México too, why don’t you ask him?”

“I’m keeping it a surprise from him, he hasn’t seen it yet.” Again, all the better lies always had a kernel of truth. Ámbar joined her hands together. “Please, Luna? It’ll be quick, I promise, I’ll let you be after that.”

Luna hesitated, still looking very confused, but she agreed. “Okay, sure.”

Powerful relief flooded Ámbar as they started walking and left Sharon’s room behind, further and further with each step they took. She had no idea what minimal detail of her costume she was going to point out to Luna once they got to her own room, but that was unimportant— The coast was clear now. Sharon would be able to escape.

As soon as that thought registered in her mind, her chest hitched with a sharp pang. Her stomach sunk along with her relief, both crushed under a wave of guilt so potent it was almost asphyxiating.

Her brain reproached her without mercy. You weren’t supposed to let her escape— You had to stop her!

Ámbar’s pulse went wild again, and she became very aware of her own breathing. She tried to keep it normal, but now that she’d stopped moving by instinct, her mind was frantic, urging her to action so loudly it was like a blare in her ears.

It’s not too late. Turn around. Tell Luna to go get her parents. You have Sharon right there, served on a silver platter— What are you doing?

But Sharons’ face. The fear in her eyes.

Who cares? You’re not at fault for everything she has to pay for. Hand her over, help getting her captured, and the Valente will be grateful. Maybe even Simón will be happy. Maybe he’ll be proud of you, for doing the right thing, like when you apologized in the Roller.

Ámbar felt her stomach so tied up in knots it was like she was going to be sick.

“Ámbar?” Luna spoke to her. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

Her heart pounded even harder.

“No.” Her natural instinct was to lie. Hide everything behind a smile. “Everything’s fine, I’m okay.”

“Is the issue with your costume that bad?” Luna ventured, clearly not believing her words.

A breathless laugh burst out of Ámbar. “No, no, that’s just a tiny thing, you’ll see when we get there.” Her hands fidgeted. “It’s just…”

She could feel Luna’s stare on her face. Ámbar swallowed.

“It’s just that… thinking that Sharon had sneaked into the house again left me a little rattled, that’s all.”

Lie. Liar. Say the truth. Stop this. Stop this.

“I didn’t know that Sharon’s appearances had affected you so much,” Luna said with sympathy, but there were some strong undertones of surprise and bemusement. “I mean, with how close you two used to be, I would guess you’re the one with the least reasons to worry. She would never do anything to you.”

Thump.

A dagger ran through Ámbar’s heart.

It took her a while to regain her composure. She had to remind herself how untrue that was, all the things Sharon had done, everything she had threatened to do.

“You forget she lied to me about my identity,” she said to Luna. And that’s only what you know.

Luna looked down, embarrassed. “Oh. Right. You’re right,” she said quietly, and remained quiet all the rest of the way, which suited Ámbar just fine.

She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to wrap up this ruse as quickly as possible and then get into bed. She had a big day tomorrow after all. That was the only thing she had to focus on right now.

Coward, her brain grumbled at her.

‘You always do what’s most convenient for you,’ she heard Rey’s voice. ‘You can stop pretending otherwise.’

She was sure that was how it looked from the outside. But Rey was wrong.

Ámbar didn’t do what was convenient for her, almost never. She did whatever poured out of her in the moment— Whatever she could. She told herself she was smart, and cunning, and calculative, but she wasn’t. She followed her emotions more often than her head. She got things wrong. Over, and over, and over.

Maybe she could break that cycle if she weren’t so stupid, she thought numbly. She would never know, she guessed. She was too emotional to do things right, too much of a disaster to stop making more messes.

I deserve everything coming my way.

She opened the door of her room and saw Simón on the bed, already wearing his pajamas. He did a double-take when he saw she wasn’t alone, surprised and confused.

“Luna?” He said, blinking. “Wha…?”

Ámbar drew a smile on her face.

Time to perform! Don’t you just love that, you lying bitch?

“I found Luna on the way and asked her to help me with my costume, sorry for startling you.”

She closed the door behind them.

**********************

Simón didn’t go to the kitchen.

He didn’t leave the room at all, mainly because he had made a decision, long ago, regarding Ámbar. He chose to believe in the good in her. He chose to trust her when he started this relationship, and chose it again when she apologized about the phone call. He had to stick by that choice. He couldn’t keep wavering over every little thing.

Ámbar wouldn’t lie to me again, he stated in his mind, with conviction, with logic. Not after what happened the last time. She knows better and she wouldn’t do that to me. She loves me.

Since she loved him, she wouldn’t purposely do something that would hurt him, right?

Simón went to use the bathroom and do his nighttime routine— brush his teeth, wash his face. Ámbar had a wide variety of products and she’d told him to just help himself to whatever. There was a cleanser he liked, so he’d taken to using that one. It definitely made his face feel better than regular soap.

He usually would take a shower, but he wanted to be present when Ámbar came back to the room (he told himself there was no particular reason behind that). He could take one in the morning, he decided, and walked out of the bathroom.

He changed into his sleep t-shirt and pajama pants, a soft cotton combination he fancied in the colder months. Well, usually he wore a little more, like thicker pants or a long-sleeve shirt, but that was in the loft when he slept with barely a sleeping bag on top of him, and most importantly, that was when he slept alone, because Ámbar might use him to warm up her cold feet every night, but that didn’t mean her body didn’t produce heat. If Simón tried to sleep more covered, he would lie awake in a puddle of sweat.

Ámbar still hadn’t come back when he laid back down on the bed. He scrolled through Instagram for a few minutes, checking the passage of time, until he realized he was doing that and put his phone down. He grabbed the remote and searched for a movie to watch (he didn’t really want to watch anything but…)

He had just selected something when the bedroom door opened. Simón looked toward it, expecting to see Ámbar, but he didn’t expect to see—

“Luna?” He sat up. “Wha...?”

“I found Luna on the way and asked her to help me with my costume, sorry for startling you,” Ámbar said to him, and closed the door behind them both. “Thank god you were dressed.”

Luna grimaced so hard after hearing that.

“Oh,” Simón said, taking that in. He crossed his legs, leaning slightly forward. “Does that mean I finally get to see it?”

“Nope,” Ámbar replied humorously. “We’re gonna be in my en-suite— No peaking!” She started crossing the room and looked behind her. “Follow me, Luna.”

The two disappeared inside the bathroom seconds later, leaving Simón alone again.

He frowned.

Well, that was weird.

Ámbar left to serve herself some tea or something and then she showed up around twenty minutes later with Luna in tow?? Had Luna ever even been inside Ámbar’s room before? They never had the best relationship. They got along well enough now, but enough for Ámbar to bring her here and ask for her opinion on her costume? A costume that she didn’t even show him?

Well, if she doesn’t want to show it to you, it makes sense she’d have to ask someone else.

But now? The night before? When Ámbar liked to be prepared for everything and always tried to leave things ready in advance?

You’re overthinking again.

After some minutes, he heard the bathroom door open, so he quickly schooled his face into a neutral expression. Luna and Ámbar reappeared in the room, the latter stopping by her closet to put back a hanger with a black garment cover on it.

“Thank you again, Luna, sorry for bothering you.”

Luna chuckled. “I really didn’t do anything— I don’t know why you thought there was something wrong with your dress.”

“Ssh.” Ámbar tilted her head pointedly toward Simón.

Luna’s eyes widened. “Dress, pants, blouse—Who knows?” She corrected, letting out another light laugh. She smiled at both of them as she walked to the door. “Goodnight, Simón, see you tomorrow.”

He smiled at her. “Goodnight.”

Luna left the room, letting the two of them alone. Simón’s eyes immediately focused on Ámbar. He saw her sigh, the slightest bit of tension dropping from her shoulders, and she ran her fingers through her hair, probably in an unconscious gesture.

“How was it that you ended up with Luna again?”

He made his voice sound curious and not suspicious— Just conversational. Ámbar’s back still straightened before she turned to look at him.

“I was coming back from the kitchen when I heard some weird noises,” she started saying. “Or, well, I thought I had heard weird noises. Evidently, I was wrong.”

Ámbar bent down to take off her shoes. She kept talking as she put them back in her closet, and then as she walked toward her vanity and started taking off her jewelry. “But when I went to check Sharon’s room to make sure everything was fine, that’s where I met Luna. She wanted to look for photos of Lily and Bernie. She said that since we’ll be celebrating the Day of the Dead tomorrow, she was feeling melancholic. I told her it’d be better if she saw them some other day, since looking at their pictures now would only make her sadder, and that’s when I asked her to come help me with my costume.” Now that she’d stored everything back in its place, she spun to face him with a smile. “What better way to take her mind off such sad topics, right?”

Simón’s shoulders slumped a little. “Right.”

He felt a little bad after hearing her explanation. It all sounded perfectly reasonable— even nice toward Luna.

I’ll have to ask her later to see if she tells me the same story.

Simón shook himself internally right after finishing that thought. What was wrong with him? He was blowing this whole thing way out of proportion— He just had to believe her and that was it.

Ámbar went to her nightstand to leave her phone charging. Simón finished processing her words.

“So… there was nothing wrong with your costume, actually,” he concluded.

Ámbar turned her head toward him, and her whole posture revealed she’d been caught. She showed him an apologetic smile with a tint of playfulness. “Could you keep it a secret from Luna?” She asked. “I don’t want her to think I was just messing with her like I used to do; that wasn’t my intention.”

Simón smiled. “Yeah, sure.”

So, there was a lie, but just a little white one. Maybe that was what his intuition was picking up on and it was nothing bad after all. It definitely was more believable than Ámbar seeking help with her costume the night before the event.

And her doing all of that just for Luna is more believable? His brain mocked. They’re not even friends.

Simón tucked his hands under his thighs and curled them into fists. Stop it.

“Thank you,” Ámbar said. She glanced at the TV. “I see you found a movie.” She climbed onto the bed and sat next to him. “Did you start watching it already?”

“No, not yet.”

“Good, so we can watch it together,” she said smiling. “Although,” she checked her phone briefly, “it’s a little late now. I better take off my makeup first, so we can just turn off the TV after and sleep.” She slipped out of her side of the bed. “I’ll brush my teeth too. I’ll be right back.”

Simón got up. “Wait.”

He intercepted her on the way. Ámbar stopped and looked at him curiously.

He wrapped his arms loosely around her and put on a smile. “I want a kiss first.”

Ámbar’s face filled with tenderness. With her hands on his chest, she tilted her head up to give him a kiss, sweet and short. Too short. “Are you charging me a toll to pass through now?” She said with amusement.

“Yes,” he said, and leaned in to join their lips once more.

He kissed her longer this time. Softly at first, then a little more insistently, tilting his head and parting her lips with his. He sucked on them slightly before pulling back.

She didn’t taste like tea.

Simón held her head between his hands and kissed her deeper. Ámbar’s hands went to his back, and when his tongue entered her mouth, her fingers dug into his skin and she let out a little moan. Simón felt an answering shiver go down his body. Heat pooled low in his stomach, but she didn’t taste like anything. She didn’t smell like anything. Nothing.

Then what did you do for twenty minutes?

Ámbar pulled back, panting a little. Simón’s breathing was accelerated too. Her hands held his shoulders. “Um.” She looked down momentarily. “Not that I don’t like it, but maybe we should just watch the movie,” she said slowly. “We have a long day tomorrow and it’s already late.”

Simón knew the twinge in his chest wasn’t rational. He felt it anyway.

“You don’t want to?”

Ámbar looked a little troubled. Maybe it was an unfair question to ask. Maybe it wasn’t. Simón felt like he didn’t know anything at the moment. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just…”

She looked to the side and— Oh… There was that look on her face again. The one she always denied that existed.

She blinked it away soon. She always did. “Actually, you know what?” She cupped his face. “It doesn’t matter.”

And for once, Simón instinct wasn’t to ask. He didn’t want to know what was causing her hesitation. He didn’t want to talk. He wanted to drown himself in a feeling.

So, when Ámbar kissed him, that was exactly what he did.

He poured all of himself into the meeting of their mouths. He held her against him and moved them to the bed, and with every layer they took off, he reminded himself of something.

She loves me.

Ámbar pulled him down and closer, pressing her body against his and circling him with her legs.

Even if sometimes I annoy her. Even if I don’t have that much to offer. Even if I don’t have a place of my own. She doesn’t care about any of that. She doesn’t want anyone else. She loves me.

He entered her in one slide, groaning at the tight, melting feeling, and Ámbar moaned, sighing as he bottomed out as if it was a relief to have him this close to her. She kissed the side of his neck, his jaw, his temple, and Simón started to move, stealing a gasp from her kiss-swollen lips.

Ámbar loves me.

He kissed her mouth and her neck. Heard her moan.

I know she does.

He thrust harder.

I know she does.

“Hey.”

Ámbar grabbed his face. Simón stopped.

“What’s the matter? Is it a cramp?” She asked breathlessly. “Why the painful face?”

Simón’s chest seized. Ámbar was looking at him with worried eyes.

He didn’t want to talk.

“Yeah, it’s a cramp,” he said. “But it’ll go away, it doesn’t matter.”

Ámbar’s face softened with sympathy. “Let’s switch positions.”

She guided him gently to lie on his back while she got on top of him. She arched up with her hands on his stomach and moved her hips, getting fully seated on his cock. A little trembling sigh left her lips.

“Better?”

Simón reached for her. “Can you kiss me while you do that?”

Ámbar lowered her upper body, moaning a little at the change of angle, and pressed their lips together.

Simón held the back of her neck and kissed her fervently as she moved.

Ámbar loves me. I know she does.

…

----------------------

I played a little with the timeline in this chapter, doing some back and forth, which is something I hadn’t done before. I hope you liked it. I personally love this chapter a lot.

As a fun fact, I’ll tell you that this changed drastically from my first draft back in 2020. The ending, though, with the ‘Ámbar loves me, I know she does’ is the one thing that didn’t change, and I’m very happy I could keep it.

I’M SO EXCITED ABOUT NEXT CHAPTER !!!!

Coming up -> Roads that cross… with the Day of the Dead (Part 1)

#simbar #soy luna #simbar fic #simbar fanfic #soy luna fanfiction #My Writing #roads that cross #I love so many things about this- Especially Simón's last POV- like uggghhhh love this so much #I know I wrote it but I dont always love what I write so let me enjoy this ksjdnf

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putonmyfavoriteshow · 10 months ago

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A long awaited continuation to Jazmín and Defli's individual (gay) summer adventures. Another installation of the Deflma of it all 🌈🇬🇧

#my fanfics #delfina almazedi #delfma #delfi x emma #soy luna #pelfi #just my favorite little trope-y fic #no hate toward pedro here I promise <3 #but emma 😍

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lastshadeofme · 7 months ago

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i think i’ll try and make a full album as if it was something official for a new season of violetta or soy luna, so we can all enjoy the songs for my fanfic as if they were really something but i plan on giving some characters who never had their chance of being in the light their solo or a good duet

now we need to find some ideas for the lyrics and make it all as good as we can (it’s gonna be full AI so a bit robotic but still)

#violetta #soy luna #violetta fanfiction #soy luna fanfiction

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problematicseries · 1 month ago

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PROBLEMATIC SEASON 5

18+ content, minors dni

/!\ MAJOR SMUT, +18 CONTENT /!\

NOTE : this is all for fun, please keep in mind that no hate is sent to any of the people mentioned, THIS IS A FANFIC FOR FUN 🩷

All of the people mentioned in the fanfic are adults and fictional, names are used for a face and don’t represent anybody.

FR FANFIC

———-

Episode 4 : METAL

Jay, intrigué, marque une pause avant de demander d’un ton amusé : « Hm… et qu’est-ce que tu veux exactement, Chae ? »

Chae, jouant avec une mèche de ses cheveux, répond du tac au tac : « Je veux que tu sois mon cavalier pour la soirée organisée par Phoebe. »

À l’autre bout du fil, Jay ricane en entendant ce nom. Il s’appuie contre un mur, un sourire narquois sur les lèvres. « Phoebe, hein ? Tss… je la connais bien, elle. » Son ton laisse deviner qu’il a déjà eu affaire à elle et que ça ne l’étonne même pas qu’elle organise une soirée aussi sélective.

Il laisse planer un court silence, puis reprend : « Hmm… et la copine d’Intak, elle y sera aussi ? »

Chae lève les yeux au ciel, devinant pourquoi il pose la question. « Oui, elle sera là et Intak aussi. »

Jay rit légèrement avant d’acquiescer. « Dans ce cas, j’accepte. Ça risque d’être divertissant. »

Chae, soudainement toute guillerette, lâche un petit cri de joie avant de dire d’un ton exagérément niais : « Merciii Jay, t’es le meilleur ! »

Jay soupire, un sourire amusé toujours accroché à son visage. « Tss… arrête ça tout de suite. On se voit samedi ma puce. »

Chae raccroche, un sourire satisfait sur les lèvres, prête à retourner auprès des autres.

Chae revient s’asseoir à côté de Jang, l’air triomphant. Elle croise les jambes lentement avant d’annoncer avec un sourire appuyé :

« Je vais à la soirée BIEN accompagnée. »

Elle insiste sur chaque mot, plantant son regard dans celui de Jang, cherchant clairement à la provoquer.

Jang, méfiante, arque un sourcil. « Avec qui ? »

Chae laisse planer un silence, savourant l’instant, avant d’afficher un grand sourire provocateur. « Ton ex-petit ami qui est maintenant célibataire. »

Un frisson d’agacement traverse Jang. Elle serre le poing sur sa cuisse, ses ongles s’enfonçant légèrement dans sa paume. Ning, qui observe la scène, sent déjà l’orage approcher et se prépare mentalement à devoir séparer un éventuel catfight.

Mais Jang, loin d’être intimidée, esquisse un sourire en coin avant de rétorquer, venimeuse :

« Quand tu l’embrasseras, tu sauras quel goût a ma chatte, du coup ? »

Le silence se fait. Ning écarquille les yeux tandis que Mingi, lui, éclate de rire, se tapant la cuisse.

« Bah alors, faudrait que j’embrasse Jay aussi du coup, pour vérifier ? » plaisante-t-il, amusé par la tension qui règne autour de la table.

Kazuha, exaspérée, lève la main et lui frappe l’épaule sans ménagement. « Ferme-la, toi. »

Mingi continue de ricaner, tandis que Jang et Chae s’affrontent du regard, prêtes à faire de cette soirée un véritable champ de bataille.

San fait son entrée dans le Luna Lounge, sa carrure imposante attirant immédiatement l’attention. Ses muscles saillants se dessinent sous sa chemise légèrement déboutonnée, son regard perçant balayant la pièce jusqu’à s’arrêter sur Jang. Sans un mot, il avance et caresse lentement le sommet de son crâne du bout des doigts, un geste à la fois possessif et intimidant.

« Il faut qu’on parle, Jang. » Sa voix grave résonne, laissant entendre qu’il ne plaisante pas.

Jang, loin d’être impressionnée, lève un sourcil, son expression hautaine s’accentuant. Elle croise les bras et rétorque sèchement :

« Non. »

Un sourire carnassier étire les lèvres de San. Il place brusquement sa main derrière la nuque de Jang, ses doigts exerçant une légère pression sur sa peau, assez pour lui rappeler qu’il a toujours le contrôle.

« Ce n’était pas une proposition. »

Autour d’eux, un silence pesant s’installe. Ning échange un regard incertain avec Kazuha, tandis que Mingi, d’ordinaire bruyant, se contente d’observer la scène, un sourire en coin.

San resserre légèrement sa prise, ses doigts appuyant juste assez pour restreindre légèrement la circulation sanguine de Jang. Un avertissement silencieux.

Jang lève les yeux au ciel, agacée, avant de soupirer.

« Ok, j’arrive. »

Ning et Kazuha écarquillent les yeux. Elles ne s’attendaient pas à ce que Jang, qui venait de refuser catégoriquement, cède aussi rapidement.

D’un mouvement gracieux, Jang se lève, ses longs cheveux blonds flottant derrière elle. Elle se tourne vers San avec un regard glacial.

« Bien. » répond San, satisfait.

Sans un mot de plus, il la guide vers l’un des salons privés du Luna Lounge, sous les regards intrigués du reste du groupe.

Mingi siffle doucement en secouant la tête, un sourire amusé aux lèvres.

« Eh bah, moi qui pensais que c’était Jang qui portait le pantalon dans cette relation… »

Chae croise les bras, fixant la porte du salon privé où San et Jang viennent de disparaître.

« C’est vrai que San a l’air plus imposant et intimidant dernièrement… »

Ning, assise bien droite, observe la scène en silence avant d’acquiescer discrètement, portant son verre à ses lèvres pour siroter son thé glacé.

L’ambiance est étrangement lourde, comme si tout le monde réalisait que la dynamique entre San et Jang était en train de basculer—et qu’il valait mieux ne pas se retrouver au milieu de ça.

San entre dans le salon privé et referme la porte derrière Jang d’un geste assuré. Sa main glisse lentement dans la chute de ses reins, exerçant une légère pression, comme pour lui rappeler qui commande.

Jang ne bronche pas, habituée à ses manières possessives. Elle avance d’un pas gracieux et s’installe sur l’un des sofas de velours, croisant les jambes avec désinvolture. Elle attrape un cocktail posé sur la table basse et en boit une gorgée, savourant l’amertume avant de lever les yeux vers San.

« Arrête de me faire des scènes comme ça, » lâche-t-elle d’un ton las.

San reste debout devant elle, imposant, dominant l’espace de sa seule présence. Il ajuste ses lunettes, qui glissent légèrement sur l’arête de son nez, puis secoue lentement la tête, exaspéré.

« C’est pourtant simple de m’écouter, Jang. »

Elle soupire, visiblement agacée, et s’enfonce un peu plus dans le canapé.

« Tu voulais me dire quoi au juste ? » demande-t-elle, sans cacher son impatience.

San ne répond pas immédiatement. Il sort un dossier de l’intérieur de sa veste et le pose brusquement sur la table basse devant elle. Le bruit du papier résonne dans la pièce tamisée.

« Tu sais ce que c’est que ça ? » demande-t-il d’un ton neutre, mais son regard brûle d’une intensité inquiétante.

Intriguée malgré elle, Jang se penche légèrement en avant, observant les documents sans y toucher. Elle plisse les yeux, cherchant à déchiffrer les premières lignes.

« Non ? Je devrais ? » répond-elle en haussant un sourcil.

San ouvre lentement le dossier et tourne les pages avec précision jusqu’à un point bien spécifique. Il le pousse vers elle.

« Tu te souviens quand je t’ai dit que j’avais tout laissé pour toi ? »

Jang relève le regard, un brin moqueuse.

« Oui, la mafia, tout ça, bla-bla-bla… » ironise-t-elle en agitant la main, comme si toute cette histoire était un vieux souvenir sans importance.

San serre la mâchoire, ses doigts se crispant légèrement sur le bord de la table. Son regard s’assombrit avant qu’il ne lâche, d’un ton glacial :

« Je t’ai menti. »

Un silence lourd s’installe. Jang sent son estomac se contracter légèrement, mais elle garde son masque d’indifférence. Pourtant, son cœur bat plus vite.

« Comment ça, ‘je t’ai menti’ ? » demande-t-elle finalement, une lueur d’inquiétude dans la voix.

San esquisse un sourire en coin, un sourire qui ne promet rien de bon.

Il s’appuie lentement contre le rebord de la table basse, croisant les bras, observant chaque réaction de Jang avec minutie.

« Ça veut dire, » commence-t-il en inclinant légèrement la tête, « que tu n’as jamais vraiment été avec un homme repenti. »

Jang serre discrètement les doigts autour de son verre, tentant de masquer la tension qui grimpe en elle. Elle connaît San, elle sait qu’il ne parle jamais pour rien dire.

« T’es en train de me dire que tu bosses encore pour eux ? »

San esquisse un sourire, un mélange d’amusement et de défi. Il tapote du doigt un document précis à l’intérieur du dossier.

« Regarde ça, » dit-il calmement.

Jang baisse enfin les yeux et tire légèrement la feuille vers elle. Son regard balaye les lignes dactylographiées avant de s’arrêter net sur un nom. Ses lèvres s’entrouvrent légèrement sous l’effet de la surprise, puis de la colère.

Elle lève les yeux vers San, le regard noir.

« T’es en train de me dire que t’es toujours l’héritier principal ? »

San ne bronche pas.

« Disons plutôt que je n’ai jamais vraiment renoncé à l’être. »

Jang éclate de rire, un rire sec, nerveux. Elle repose brutalement son verre sur la table et passe une main dans ses cheveux.

« Tu me prends pour une conne, c’est ça ? Tout ce temps, t’as osé me faire croire que t’étais clean ? Que t’avais laissé tout ça derrière toi ? »

San s’accoude sur la table, son visage dangereusement proche du sien.

« T’as jamais été naïve, Jang. T’aurais vraiment cru que je pouvais juste… tirer un trait sur tout ça ? »

Elle se mord l’intérieur de la joue. Son cœur bat trop fort.

« Tu sais ce que ça veut dire pour moi, San. Tu sais ce que je peux perdre à cause de ça. »

San hausse légèrement les épaules.

« Et pourtant, t’es toujours là, avec moi. »

Jang inspire profondément, tentant de maîtriser la tempête qui se déchaîne en elle.

« Pourquoi tu me dis tout ça maintenant ? » demande-t-elle, sa voix plus basse, plus tranchante.

San recule légèrement, Il sourit en coin avant de répondre, ses yeux perçants ancrés dans les siens.

« Parce que cette fois, Jang… c’est toi qui vas devoir m’aider. »

————-

Résidence Nymphéa : 22:30

Un vrombissement luxueux brise le calme de l’esplanade, attirant instantanément l’attention des quelques passants présents. Une Maserati cabriolet blanche, d’une élégance rare, s’immobilise devant la résidence Nymphéa. Sous les réverbères tamisés, la carrosserie immaculée reflète les lumières environnantes, accentuant son allure sophistiquée.

Quelques secondes passent avant qu’une silhouette féminine, longiligne et gracieuse, ne descende du véhicule avec une aisance déconcertante. Ses talons claquent légèrement contre le sol pavé, un son maîtrisé, presque musical. D’un geste fluide, elle repousse une mèche de ses longs cheveux brillants qui ondulent avec grâce à chacun de ses mouvements. Une fragrance florale se dégage d’elle, un subtil mélange d’orchidée et de musc blanc, effleurant l’air autour d’elle comme une signature invisible.

D’un regard assuré, elle fait glisser ses lunettes de soleil sur le haut de sa tête et jette un coup d’œil à ses bagages Louis Vuitton qui dépassent élégamment du coffre de la Maserati. Puis, sans une once d’hésitation, elle avance d’un pas mesuré vers l’entrée principale de la résidence, le port altier et le dos droit, incarnant une confiance naturelle qui semble faire partie intégrante de sa personne.

Arrivée devant la porte, elle appuie doucement sur la sonnette, son ongle manucuré effleurant le bouton avec une précision presque chorégraphiée. Un bref silence s’installe avant que la porte ne s’ouvre sur Iroha, dont le sourire angélique illumine immédiatement l’instant.

« Oui ? » demande-t-elle, sa voix douce teintée de curiosité.

La nouvelle arrivante incline légèrement la tête avant de déclarer d’un ton calme et maîtrisé :

« Enchantée, je suis votre nouvelle colocataire. On m’a assignée à cette résidence, il restait une chambre de libre, c’est bien ça ? »

Le sourire d’Iroha s’agrandit aussitôt, son regard pétillant de bienveillance. D’un geste accueillant, elle s’écarte pour lui laisser le passage.

« En effet ! Bienvenue !! » s’exclame-t-elle avec enthousiasme.

Sans perdre un instant, la jeune femme franchit le seuil, ses yeux scrutant l’intérieur avec un intérêt mesuré. Son expression demeure neutre, mais le léger plissement de ses lèvres trahit une satisfaction silencieuse. Elle avance lentement, laissant le temps à son parfum de s’infiltrer subtilement dans l’air du salon, comme pour marquer sa présence d’une empreinte invisible.

D’un mouvement élégant, elle laisse glisser son sac à main hors de son épaule, prête à découvrir son nouveau chez-elle.

La jeune femme dépose délicatement son sac à main Prada sur la table en marbre du salon, un geste mesuré, presque étudié. Le cuir lisse et raffiné contraste avec la froideur luxueuse de la surface, un détail qui ne semble pas lui échapper.

D’un mouvement fluide, elle se retourne, sa chevelure soyeuse dessinant une courbe parfaite dans l’air. Son regard, perçant et assuré, se pose sur Iroha alors qu’un sourire en coin se dessine sur ses lèvres.

« Ça te dit d’aller prendre un verre, Iroha ? » propose-t-elle d’une voix suave, teintée d’une pointe de malice.

Iroha, dont l’enthousiasme naturel ne faiblit jamais, hoche immédiatement la tête.

« Avec plaisir ! Je vais chercher une veste, ma carte bleue et j’arrive ! » répond-elle en s’éclipsant brièvement vers sa chambre.

Mais avant qu’elle ne disparaisse complètement, la jeune femme l’arrête dans son élan.

« Pas besoin de carte, je t’invite. »

Iroha s’immobilise un instant, surprise, avant qu’un sourire encore plus éclatant ne prenne place sur son visage. Son expression sincèrement ravie illumine ses traits alors qu’elle incline légèrement la tête en signe de gratitude.

« Merci beaucoup !! Oh, je t’ai pas demandé ton nom, au fait ? »

Pendant un bref instant, la jeune femme ne répond pas. Elle sort un poudrier de son sac et ajuste subtilement la couleur rosée de ses pommettes avec un soupçon de blush. Puis, d’un geste théâtral mais toujours impeccable, elle range son maquillage, se retourne une nouvelle fois et fait voler sa chevelure dans un mouvement parfaitement maîtrisé.

Un sourire mystérieux aux lèvres, elle lâche enfin, d’un ton assuré :

« Tu peux m’appeler Jeemin. »

Sans attendre de réaction, elle sort d’une poche intérieure de sa veste un trousseau de clés qu’elle lance avec une précision chirurgicale à Iroha, qui les attrape au vol, les yeux ronds.

« Emmène-moi dans le meilleur bar de Los Angeles. »

Un éclat d’excitation traverse le regard d’Iroha. Cette soirée promettait d’être mémorable.

—-

Hypercentre de Los Angeles : 23:00

Iroha se gare avec assurance devant le Neon District, l’un des bars les plus prisés du centre de Los Angeles. La façade est une explosion de lumières colorées, avec des néons vifs formant des formes abstraites et des lettres stylisées qui dansent sur les murs. L’énergie du lieu est palpable, une fusion entre une atmosphère futuriste et un luxe sophistiqué.

Jeemin jette un regard appréciateur autour d’elle en descendant de la voiture.

« Pas mal… » murmure-t-elle en ajustant sa jupe avant d’entrer aux côtés d’Iroha.

À l’intérieur, le spectacle est hypnotisant : des jeux de lumières violettes et bleutées caressent les murs en béton brut, tandis que des tubes de néons roses bordent les contours du bar et des alcôves VIP. L’air vibre sous le rythme entraînant d’un DJ qui mixe un set house sensuel, les basses résonnant jusque dans la poitrine.

Les cocktails eux-mêmes sont un spectacle à part entière, équipés de petites lumières LED qui leur donnent une aura envoûtante. Sur le comptoir, des verres aux couleurs fluorescentes brillent dans la pénombre, reflétant les nuances électriques de la salle.

Iroha et Jeemin s’installent sur des tabourets hauts en velours près du bar, leurs jambes élégamment croisées, leurs visages éclairés par les reflets colorés des lumières.

« Tu sais que ton feed Instagram est vraiment léché, » dit Jeemin en sirotant son cocktail à la couleur hypnotisante.

Iroha esquisse un sourire en coin, amusée.

« Merci, je fais attention à la cohérence esthétique. Mais c’est une plaie avec l’algorithme… il me rend folle en ce moment. »

Jeemin hoche la tête, compréhensive.

« C’est toujours pareil. Il faut poster au bon moment, capter l’engagement dès les premières minutes… sinon, t’es noyée dans la masse. »

Elles trinquent doucement, un cliquetis cristallin résonnant entre elles alors qu’elles échangent un regard complice. La soirée ne faisait que commencer.

———————

Restaurant « Velvet Oak » : 21:13

Un serveur en costume sur-mesure s’approche, déposant devant lui un verre de whisky sans un mot, déjà familier avec ses habitudes. Intak attrape le verre entre ses doigts, observant les glaçons tournoyer lentement sous les lueurs chaudes du club. Son regard est fixe, froid.

Il est impeccablement vêtu – un costume noir parfaitement ajusté, une chemise légèrement entrouverte, dévoilant juste ce qu’il faut de peau pour entretenir une aura de mystère. Son attitude est détendue, mais son regard est affûté, chaque détail capté comme s’il jouait une partie d’échecs invisible avec l’univers qui l’entoure.

« Qu’est-ce que tu peux être vulgaire. »

Tu lances ces mots à Intak, un brin exaspérée, alors qu’il vient de sortir une remarque bien trop déplacée à ton goût. Pourtant, il ne semble pas le moins du monde désarçonné. Au contraire, un sourire en coin s’étire sur son visage alors qu’il te fixe avec cet air de défi qu’il adore afficher.

« Arrête, je sais que t’aimes ça. Je sais tout ce que t’aimes, tout ce qui te donne des frissons. »

Sa voix est plus basse, plus suave, et il s’adosse nonchalamment contre le dossier de la banquette, comme s’il savourait l’effet de ses paroles sur toi. Tu roules des yeux pour masquer le frisson qui te parcourt l’échine, mais il t’a déjà percée à jour.

Déstabilisée, tu fais signe au serveur pour commander à manger, espérant détourner la conversation vers un terrain plus neutre. Intak te laisse faire, mais tu sens son regard insistant sur toi, scrutant chacun de tes gestes comme s’il s’amusait de ton malaise.

Le serveur s’éloigne à peine qu’Intak reprend la parole, sa voix plus douce cette fois, mais tout aussi percutante :

« Ça me manque, Paradise. »

Tu étais en train de boire une gorgée d’eau quand ses mots te frappent de plein fouet. Surprise, tu t’étouffes légèrement et reposes ton verre en toussant.

« T’es sérieux, Intak ? »

Il rit doucement, amusé par ta réaction.

« Qu’est-ce que tu prenais cher quand même… » murmure-t-il avec un sourire en coin, un éclat malicieux dans les yeux.

Cette fois, c’est toi qui souris, un rire moqueur s’échappant de tes lèvres alors que tu lui lances une serviette en plein visage.

« Arrête, j’aime pas trop parler de Paradise… »

Il redresse le menton, visiblement peu convaincu.

« On a passé du bon temps pourtant. »

Tu croises son regard et y perçois une lueur de nostalgie, peut-être même un soupçon de regret. Il ne le dira pas, bien sûr, mais tu le devines dans sa façon de te fixer, dans la façon dont il fait tourner son verre entre ses doigts.

Plutôt que d’y répondre directement, tu saisis la perche qu’il te tend et la retournes contre lui.

« Oui, mais c’est pas avec toi que j’ai passé le meilleur de mon temps. »

Tu accompagnes ta phrase d’un sourire en coin, provocateur, sachant pertinemment que cela va piquer son ego.

Et tu ne te trompes pas.

Son sourire s’efface légèrement, sa mâchoire se contracte imperceptiblement. Il repose son verre avec un peu plus de fermeté que nécessaire et te fixe avec une intensité nouvelle.

« Ah oui ? Avec qui alors ? », sa voix grave et légèrement rauque, trahissant un brin d’irritation.

Tu te contentes de hausser les épaules avec un sourire malicieux, savourant l’instant où, pour une fois, c’est lui qui semble sur la défensive.

Le serveur revient avec les plats commandés, interrompant momentanément la tension. Tu prends une bouchée, feignant l’indifférence, mais tu sens le regard d’Intak fixé sur toi, scrutant chaque mouvement, cherchant une faille.

Il se penche légèrement vers toi, ses doigts effleurant son verre d’un geste lent et maîtrisé.

« T’es vraiment chiante quand tu fais ça… » dit-il, un brin amusé, un brin piqué.

Tu lui lances un regard innocent. « Faire quoi ? »

Il rit doucement en secouant la tête, reprenant son air assuré. « T’amuser à me rendre jaloux. »

Tu prends une autre gorgée d’eau avant de répliquer, un sourire en coin :

« Pourquoi, t’as peur de la réponse ? »

Intak ne te quitte pas des yeux alors qu’il porte une bouchée de son plat à sa bouche. Son ton est ferme, sans équivoque, teinté de cette possessivité qui le caractérise si bien.

« Non, j’ai peur d’aucune réponse. T’es à moi. »

Un sourire amusé étire tes lèvres tandis que tu plantes ta fourchette dans ton assiette, jouant avec la nourriture avant de prendre une bouchée à ton tour.

« Ah oui ? Pourtant, c’est pas avec toi que je suis allée étudier l’autre jour. »

Tu le dis avec légèreté, un brin provocatrice, sachant pertinemment que la réaction ne tardera pas à venir. Et en effet, tu vois immédiatement la mâchoire d’Intak se crisper. Ses muscles se tendent, ses doigts se resserrent légèrement autour de ses couverts. Il détourne brièvement le regard, les lèvres pincées, cherchant visiblement à garder son calme. Mais c’est peine perdue.

« C’est l’autre fils de pute de Junghwan ? » crache-t-il finalement, sa voix plus rauque, plus froide.

Des clients attablés non loin se retournent vers vous, interpellés par l’agressivité soudaine de son ton. Tu soupires discrètement et reposes tes couverts sur la table, cherchant à désamorcer la situation.

« Arrête, Intak. »

Mais il ne lâche pas l’affaire. Son regard s’assombrit encore, une lueur de colère y brillant dangereusement.

« Réponds-moi. Ou je te jure que si c’est lui, je retourne la table et je vais lui éclater sa gueule. »

Il se penche légèrement vers toi, son ton bas mais menaçant, le contrôle lui échappant peu à peu.

« Tu t’es fait Junghwan ? »

Son regard est noir, perçant, brûlant d’une jalousie évidente.

Tu inspires profondément, croises les bras et soutiens son regard sans ciller.

« Je te répondrai pas tant que t’es aussi vulgaire et énervé, Intak. »

Un silence pesant s’installe entre vous. Il serre encore plus la mâchoire, ses doigts tapotant nerveusement contre la table. Il est à deux doigts d’exploser, mais il sait aussi que s’il veut une réponse, il va devoir se calmer.

Vous terminez le repas dans un silence tendu mais relatif, Intak semblant s’être un peu calmé après votre échange. Vous vous dirigez vers la sortie, et alors que vous vous apprêtez à passer la porte, il t’enfile doucement sa veste sur les épaules, comme un geste protecteur, peut-être pour compenser la tension de tout à l’heure.

« Merci. » Tu lui souris légèrement, appréciant le geste. Malgré tout, la situation reste incertaine entre vous, mais au moins ce moment-là, il n’est pas désagréable.

Vous franchissez le seuil du restaurant, l’air frais de la soirée effleurant vos visages. Mais soudain, l’improbable se produit. Une moto gronde dans l’air, et tu reconnais immédiatement la silhouette familière qui se tient près du trottoir, juste en face du restaurant. C’est Junghwan.

Avant même que tu n’aies le temps de réagir, il se penche en avant, son casque en main, et te tend celui-ci avec un sourire en coin.

« C’était long cette torture. »

Il fait référence, bien sûr, au repas que tu viens de passer avec Intak. Son regard espiègle te transperce, et son ton, bien qu’agréable, est empreint de cette légère moquerie qui lui est si caractéristique. Intak, qui te suit de près, devient soudainement plus tendu, son regard fixant Junghwan, une étincelle de frustration dans ses yeux.

Tu hésites un instant, entre la surprise et l’amusement. Tu n’avais pas prévu de le voir ici, encore moins dans cette situation.

Intak baisse la tête, un sourire en coin apparaissant sur son visage alors qu’il regarde Junghwan.

« Tu tombes bien, toi » répond Intak, son ton est chargé de sous-entendus, et tu sens immédiatement que la tension monte d’un cran. Les deux hommes se dévisagent intensément, l’atmosphère soudainement lourde de conflit, comme une étincelle prête à enflammer tout sur son passage.

Junghwan, avec son air détendu et une pointe de moquerie, laisse échapper un petit rire. « C’est bon, lâche l’affaire, Intak. Tu fais partie du passé. » Il se rapproche légèrement, ses mots tranchants et pleins de défi. Le regard d’Intak se durcit instantanément, et tu sens que la situation devient dangereuse.

Paniquée, tu poses ta main sur le torse de Junghwan pour l’arrêter avant qu’il ne fasse un pas de plus vers Intak. « Non, s’il te plaît. » Tu essayes de maintenir une certaine distance, espérant désamorcer la situation avant qu’elle n’éclate.

Mais Junghwan, implacable, prend ta main et l’embrasse doucement, ses yeux se fixant sur les tiens avec un air qui te déstabilise un instant. Le contraste avec l’attitude d’Intak, plus tendue, est frappant. Tu vois Intak regarder autour de lui, ses yeux se posant sur l’environnement, comme s’il analysait chaque mouvement et chaque position pour vérifier qu’il n’y ait pas de témoins indésirables.

Puis, en un éclair, il se lance.

Avant même que tu ne puisses réagir, il fait un énorme geste, son poing se dirigeant directement vers le visage de Junghwan. Le coup est rapide et puissant, et Junghwan, qui ne s’y attendait pas, est projeté au sol dans un bruit sourd. Le choc fait écho dans l’air frais de la nuit, et un silence lourd s’installe brièvement.

Le bruit du coup résonne dans l’air, et tout semble s’arrêter un instant, avant que la scène ne se transforme en chaos. Junghwan, grognant de douleur, se redresse rapidement, les yeux remplis de colère. Il essuie le sang qui commence à perler au coin de ses lèvres et se relève, son regard devenu une mer de rage.

« Tu veux ça, Intak ? » gronde-t-il, sa voix tremblant sous l’effet de la colère et de l’adrénaline.

Intak ne répond pas. Il avance d’un pas, sa posture prête à l’affrontement, et avant même que Junghwan ne puisse réagir, il lui porte un autre coup, cette fois-ci au ventre. Junghwan réagit en titubant, mais il parvient à éviter une deuxième attaque directe en se reculant, avant de lancer une série de coups rapides vers Intak.

Les deux hommes sont une tornade de mouvements, chacun essayant de prendre l’ascendant sur l’autre. Les poings volent, la sueur perle sur leurs visages, et l’atmosphère devient de plus en plus électrique, chargée de tension brute. Intak esquive une frappe de Junghwan, se penchant en avant pour éviter de justesse un coup qui aurait pu le mettre à terre. Il riposte immédiatement en frappant le visage de Junghwan, le bruit du choc résonnant dans la rue déserte.

« C’est ça que tu veux ?! » crie Intak en serrant les dents, son regard fouillant celui de Junghwan, prêt à en découdre jusqu’au bout.

Junghwan grimace, se redressant, un éclat de défi dans ses yeux. Il se précipite sur Intak avec une rapidité surprenante, ses poings s’abattant comme une pluie. Mais Intak est plus rapide, plus agile. Il bloque l’attaque et effectue un coup de genou dans l’estomac de Junghwan, le faisant vaciller en arrière.

« Tu t’es vraiment cru supérieur à moi ? » souffle Intak, furieux, son regard brillant d’une rage contenue. Le combat continue sans relâche, chaque homme essayant de dominer l’autre dans ce face-à-face où la brutalité est palpable.

Tu restes là, tétanisée par la scène qui se déroule devant toi, cherchant un moyen de les arrêter avant que cela ne dégénère encore plus. La violence de leur affrontement te glace, et tu n’as qu’une envie : les séparer avant que l’un des deux ne soit gravement blessé. Mais la situation est hors de contrôle, et tout ce que tu peux faire, c’est regarder avec horreur.

Tout se passe tellement vite, tu n’as pas le temps de tout comprendre.

Intak sort un couteau de sa poche, son regard brûlant de rage. Ton souffle se bloque. Avant que tu ne puisses réagir, Junghwan attrape une barre métallique abandonnée sur le trottoir.

Ton cœur se serre.

Tout ce que tu as le temps de faire, c’est te précipiter vers eux, tendant les bras pour les arrêter.

Mais trop tard.

Tu fermes les yeux.

Un bruit déchire la nuit.

Le choc résonne dans l’air, brutal, glaçant.

Le bruit sourd du métal rencontrant la chair et l’os résonne dans la nuit, un son glaçant qui te traverse entièrement. Tu ouvres les yeux, le souffle coupé, et ce que tu vois te paralyse.

Le corps d’Intak s’effondre lentement au sol. La barre métallique a heurté l’arrière de son crâne.

Son corps s’écroule lourdement sur le bitume, inerte. Son couteau lui échappe des mains, glissant sur le sol, tandis qu’un filet de sang s’étend doucement sous sa tête.

Il ne bouge plus.

———-

Hypercentre de Los Angeles : 23:45

La soirée bat son plein alors qu’Iroha et Jeemin se laissent emporter par le rythme effréné de Miss Belladonna de Slayyyter, résonnant à travers le Neon District. Le sol vitré s’illumine sous leurs pas, pulsant au rythme des spots colorés qui balayent la foule enfiévrée.

Jeemin, un sourire mystérieux aux lèvres, se glisse entre deux garçons, son gin en main, qu’elle fait tourner distraitement avant de prendre une gorgée dans le verre de l’un d’eux, sans même lui demander. Elle danse avec une aisance désinvolte, ses longs cheveux ondulant au gré de ses mouvements, le regard brillant d’amusement et de provocation.

De son côté, Iroha ferme les yeux un instant, se laissant complètement porter par la musique. Ses mains effleurent son propre corps, traçant des lignes imaginaires sur sa silhouette, caressant sa poitrine du bout des doigts, frissonnant sous l’impact des basses qui font vibrer l’air autour d’elle. Son sourire est hypnotique, ses hanches ondulent avec une sensualité naturelle, attirant inévitablement l’attention des personnes autour.

L’atmosphère électrique du Neon District enveloppe les deux jeunes femmes, les plongeant dans une transe euphorique, où seules la musique et l’intensité du moment comptent.

Alors que la musique pulse toujours dans l’air, l’un des garçons glisse sa main le long des cuisses de Jeemin, ses doigts effleurant sa peau avec une lenteur calculée. L’autre, attiré par son aura envoûtante, s’approche doucement, cherchant à capturer ses lèvres dans un baiser.

Mais avant qu’il ne puisse aller plus loin, Jeemin lève un doigt et le pose sur ses lèvres avec un sourire malicieux.

« Je reviens, bougez pas. » souffle-t-elle d’un ton espiègle, accompagnant ses paroles d’un clin d’œil avant de se détourner, sa jupe épousant chaque mouvement fluide de ses hanches.

Sans perdre une seconde, elle repère Iroha, encore en train de danser sous les lumières vibrantes. Elle l’attrape par la main avec un éclat de rire, son gin à moitié vide toujours dans l’autre main.

« Allez viens, on rentre ! » lance-t-elle en tirant doucement Iroha vers la sortie, son enthousiasme communicatif ne laissant aucune place à la protestation.

Iroha rit à son tour, se laissant entraîner par sa nouvelle amie alors qu’elles s’éloignent du Neon District, laissant derrière elles l’effervescence de la nuit, leurs cœurs encore portés par l’adrénaline du moment.

Une fois dehors, l’air nocturne de Los Angeles leur fouette légèrement le visage, contrastant avec la chaleur étouffante du Neon District. Jeemin passe une main dans ses longs cheveux avant de se tourner vers Iroha avec un sourire complice.

« On a trop bu pour conduire, on va rentrer à pieds, ça évitera un accident. » dit-elle en riant légèrement, sa voix encore vibrante de l’excitation de la soirée.

Iroha, les joues rosies par l’alcool et l’amusement, acquiesce sans hésitation. « Bonne idée ! Puis ça nous fera du bien de marcher un peu. »

Elles se mettent en route, leurs talons résonnant sur l’asphalte tandis qu’elles déambulent dans les rues illuminées de Los Angeles. La ville ne dort jamais vraiment ; des néons colorés clignotent encore aux vitrines des bars et des enseignes, des voitures filent sur les boulevards, et quelques groupes d’amis éméchés rient aux terrasses.

Jeemin, toujours avec son verre de gin à moitié vide qu’elle a réussi à emporter du club, lève les yeux vers les buildings illuminés. « Tu sais, je crois que j’adore cette ville. Elle a ce truc… dangereux et excitant à la fois. »

Iroha sourit en coin, sentant elle aussi cette adrénaline propre aux nuits de Los Angeles. Elles continuent à marcher, leurs ombres s’étirant sous les réverbères, laissant derrière elles l’écho d’une soirée encore gravée sur leur peau.

Alors qu’elles continuent à marcher sous les réverbères, leurs pas résonnant sur le trottoir désert, Jeemin jette un regard en coin à Iroha avant de briser le silence avec un sourire malicieux.

« Et du coup, je te voyais pas trop danser avec des garçons… T’as un petit ami ou t’es plutôt le genre de fille qui mange des minous ? »

Iroha éclate de rire, surprise par la question directe de Jeemin. Elle secoue doucement la tête avant de répondre :

« C’est compliqué… Je suis amoureuse d’un garçon qui s’en fiche de moi… enfin, je sais pas vraiment s’il s’en fiche de moi vu qu’on a couché ensemble mais— »

Jeemin lève la main pour l’interrompre, roulant des yeux dramatiquement.

« Oulalaa, je suis beaucoup trop bourrée pour gérer ça. En gros, t’as un mec mais il te mérite pas, quoi. »

Iroha mordille sa lèvre, baissant un peu la tête avant de murmurer :

« Mais je l’aime… »

Jeemin pousse un soupir exagéré avant de lever les yeux au ciel. Puis, elle passe son bras derrière la nuque d’Iroha et la rapproche doucement contre elle.

« T’es mignonne, toi… » souffle-t-elle avec un sourire attendri, caressant légèrement ses cheveux.

Iroha lève les yeux vers Jeemin, un sourire discret aux lèvres avant de répondre :

« Et toi ? »

Jeemin hausse légèrement les épaules, un éclat amusé dans le regard.

« Moi, je suis le style de fille qui embrasse une autre fille pour rire, mais j’ai eu la malédiction de n’aimer que le corps des hommes… » dit-elle en faisant une légère grimace moqueuse.

Iroha éclate de rire avant de frissonner légèrement sous la brise nocturne. Jeemin, attentive, remarque immédiatement ses tremblements. Sans hésiter, elle enlève son manteau en fourrure et le pose sur les épaules d’Iroha.

« Oh non, t’inquiète pas, ça va ! » proteste doucement Iroha, touchée par le geste.

Jeemin arque un sourcil et ajuste le manteau sur elle avec fermeté.

« Et moi, je meurs de chaud, alors fais-moi plaisir et garde-le. »

Iroha sourit timidement, glissant ses mains sous la chaleur du manteau.

« Si t’as trop froid, je peux appeler un taxi ? » propose Jeemin en sortant son téléphone.

Iroha secoue la tête.

« Non, j’aime bien marcher avec toi. »

Jeemin tourne son regard vers elle, surprise par la sincérité de la réponse. Un léger sourire s’étire sur ses lèvres alors qu’elles continuent à avancer dans la nuit.

Après un court silence, Jeemin reprend la parole d’un ton curieux :

« Mais… pourquoi t’étais toute seule ce soir ? T’as pas d’amies ? »

Jeemin s’arrête un instant, l’observant avec un mélange de surprise et de tendresse.

« Si si, mais ce soir elles étaient toutes occupées… et j’ai vu Jake. » avoue Iroha en baissant un peu la voix.

Jeemin fronce les sourcils.

« C’est qui celui-là ? »

Iroha détourne les yeux, légèrement gênée.

« Euh… bah… c’est le garçon que j’aime. »

Un sourire intrigué étire les lèvres de Jeemin.

« Oooh, je vois. Et vous avez fait quoi ? » demande-t-elle, curieuse.

Iroha rougit légèrement et cherche ses mots.

« Euh… bah… euh… »

Jeemin arque un sourcil.

« Vous avez couché ensemble ? »

Iroha hoche lentement la tête avant de détourner le regard, un peu honteuse.

Jeemin cligne des yeux, puis laisse échapper un petit rire attendri avant de poser une main sur l’épaule d’Iroha.

« Oh non, choupette… C’était ta première fois ? »

Iroha acquiesce silencieusement, fixant le sol.

Jeemin lui adresse un sourire rassurant, un éclat de détermination dans les yeux.

« Si il te brise le cœur, je me chargerai de lui. »

Iroha sourit, un léger rire s’échappant de ses lèvres, reconnaissante de la solidarité de Jeemin. Les deux filles continuent à marcher, se réchauffant l’une l’autre dans la fraîcheur nocturne de Los Angeles. Le bruit des talons sur le trottoir et les murmures lointains de la ville semblent apaiser le moment, alors qu’elles partagent un silence confortable.

Ce silence est soudainement interrompu lorsqu’un cri retentit dans la rue plus loin, suivi d’un gros bruit sourd métallique.

Les deux filles se figent instantanément, se regardant, les yeux écarquillés. Iroha ressent une montée d’adrénaline alors que Jeemin se tend, prête à réagir.

« Qu’est-ce que c’était ? » demande Jeemin, son regard scrutant les ombres dans la rue.

Iroha tend l’oreille et ses yeux s’écarquillent. « Je reconnais cette voix ! »

Elle n’attend pas un instant de plus, saisissant le bras de Jeemin, les deux filles se précipitant vers la source du bruit en courant, malgré les talons aiguilles qui s’enfoncent dans le béton des rues de Los Angeles.

Leurs respirations sont précipitées, mais l’adrénaline les pousse à aller plus vite. Le cri qu’elles ont entendu ne cesse de résonner dans leurs têtes, et l’angoisse monte à chaque pas. En tournant un coin de rue, elles aperçoivent enfin la scène.

Arrivant en hâte sur la scène, Iroha et Jeemin tombent sur une vision chaotique. Dans la rue déserte, une lumière pâle éclaire la scène surréaliste devant elles.

Iroha se précipite vers toi en criant ton nom, mais son cri se coupe net quand elle aperçoit l’étendue des dégâts. Jeemin reste figée, la gorge serrée, les yeux fixés sur Junghwan et Intak, ne sachant plus où porter son regard.

————-

POV : 00:17

Tu ressens une terreur viscérale, une peur qui te noue l’estomac au point de t’en faire presque vaciller. Junghwan, quant à lui, reste figé, sa poitrine se soulevant violemment sous l’effet de l’adrénaline. Il lâche la barre métallique comme si elle le brûlait et recule d’un pas, réalisant l’ampleur de son geste.

« Putain… » souffle-t-il, la voix tremblante.

Ton cœur bat si fort que tu l’entends dans tes tempes. Tu te précipites vers Intak, t’agenouillant à ses côtés, les mains tremblantes.

« Intak ?! »

Aucune réponse.

Tes doigts s’égarent sur son visage, cherchant un signe de conscience, mais il ne réagit pas. Sa respiration est irrégulière, faible, et son sang s’imprègne déjà dans le tissu de ta tenue.

« Oh non, non, non… »

Tu lèves la tête vers Junghwan, paniquée. Lui aussi semble sous le choc, son regard oscillant entre toi et le corps au sol.

« Il faut faire quelque chose ! » Tu cries presque, le cœur au bord de l’explosion.

Jeemin ne bouge pas immédiatement, puis, comme si elle s’était réveillée d’un cauchemar, elle sort son téléphone et commence à composer un numéro.

« Tu l’as vraiment frappé, Junghwan », souffles-tu. C’est une simple constatation, mais les mots sont lourds de sens. Il a frappé Intak à la tête avec une barre métallique. Une violence dévastatrice, et toi, tu ne sais même pas comment réagir.

Junghwan semble hésiter, puis il se tourne, comme s’il ne pouvait plus supporter de te regarder. Il prend une profonde inspiration avant de répondre, presque à lui-même : “Je voulais pas… Mais il fallait que ça cesse.” Il ferme les yeux, comme s’il espérait effacer la scène qui se joue encore devant lui.

Tu n’as pas de réponse à lui donner. Pas cette fois.

Iroha reste figée, les yeux rivés sur la scène qui se déroule devant elle. La tension est palpable, et elle semble totalement perdue, ne sachant pas comment réagir face à ce chaos. Chaque fibre de son être veut bouger, mais elle est paralysée par la peur et l’incertitude.

Jeemin, quant à elle, ne perd pas une seconde. Elle se précipite vers Intak, son regard se fixant sur son corps inerte, avant de se pencher pour prendre son pouls. “Il respire encore”, dit-elle, sa voix ferme, impassible. “Le touchez pas, on attend les secours, ils devraient arriver rapidement.”

Ses mains sont assurées. Elle se relève rapidement, jetant un coup d’œil aux alentours. Le bruit des sirènes se fait entendre au loin, se rapprochant rapidement. Les secours ne devraient plus être loin.

Junghwan, toujours sur ses gardes, se tourne brusquement vers Jeemin. “Qu’est-ce que tu fais là ?” demande-t-il, l’air agacé, presque surpris de la voir ici. Il la dévisage, comme s’il n’arrivait pas à comprendre pourquoi elle était impliquée dans cette situation.

Jeemin le fixe calmement, sans se laisser intimider. “C’est absolument pas le moment, Jung”, répond-elle d’un ton tranchant, avant de se redresser, consciente de l’urgence de la situation. Ses yeux scrutent l’horizon, et dans un éclair, elle aperçoit enfin les lumières clignotantes des secours qui arrivent.

Elle fait un geste pour attirer l’attention d’Iroha, qui reste toujours dans sa position figée. “Iroha, viens, mets mon manteau sur lui, il ne faut pas que son corps se refroidisse”, dit-elle en se dirigeant vers elle, attrapant la veste qu’Iroha lui tend.

Les sirènes des ambulances se rapprochent de plus en plus, et Jeemin, bien qu’elle affiche une façade calme, sait pertinemment qu’ils n’ont plus beaucoup de temps. Les secours prennent enfin position, et des paramédics s’approchent précipitamment d’Intak pour l’évaluer et lui prodiguer les premiers soins.

Junghwan, quant à lui, regarde la scène d’un air lointain, comme s’il était complètement détaché de ce qui venait de se passer. Mais ses mains serrent toujours ses poings, trahissant la tourmente qui bouillonne en lui.

Le chaos se transforme en silence, seulement interrompu par le bruit des secours et l’effervescence des décisions qui doivent être prises.

Quelques minutes plus tard, les secours réussissent à stabiliser Intak et à l’emmener dans l’ambulance. Le bruit des sirènes résonne encore dans la nuit alors que le véhicule s’éloigne, emportant avec lui l’incertitude de ce qui va suivre. Les paramédics se sont occupés de lui avec efficacité, mais l’angoisse reste présente. La scène est maintenant presque calme, à l’exception des quelques témoins qui regardent, toujours sous le choc.

Tu prends une grande inspiration, regardant l’ambulance disparaître au loin. Sans un mot, tu fais un pas en avant, hésitant, avant de te tourner vers Iroha. Elle te regarde, toujours un peu figée, le regard perdu dans les souvenirs récents de ce qu’il s’est passé.

“Bonne soirée, Iroha”, dis-tu doucement, le ton plus calme mais toujours chargé d’émotions. “Je vais monter dans l’ambulance pour être sûr que tout va bien. Je te rejoindrai à la résidence plus tard, d’accord ?”

Iroha, visiblement encore sous le choc mais essayant de garder son calme, hoche la tête sans dire un mot. Elle comprend. Elle sait que tu dois y aller, que l’incertitude te ronge autant que l’inquiétude.

“Vas-y, sois prudente”, répond-elle enfin, une lueur de préoccupation dans ses yeux.

Tu laisses tomber un dernier regard vers elle, puis tu te diriges lentement vers l’ambulance, ton cœur encore battant à toute vitesse. La porte de l’ambulance se ferme derrière toi, et l’un des secouristes te fait un signe pour te faire monter à bord.

Tu prends place à côté d’Intak, surveillant de près son état, tout en te demandant ce qui l’attend après tout cela. Tu n’as pas le temps de te poser trop de questions. Ce soir, tout ce qui compte, c’est qu’il survive.

Les portes de l’ambulance se referment, et tu te laisses emporter dans la nuit, loin de l’agitation des rues de Los Angeles.

———

Hypercentre de Los Angeles : 00:50

Jeemin regarde Junghwan avec une expression de dédain évident, les bras croisés, son regard perçant comme si elle voulait le faire fondre sous son regard. Junghwan, de son côté, semble à la fois énervé et épuisé, mais un brin de fierté persiste dans ses yeux. Il souffle lourdement en secouant la tête.

« Tu vas faire semblant de pas me connaître ? » demande-t-il, sa voix pleine de mépris.

Jeemin lève les yeux au ciel, un soupir s’échappant de ses lèvres avant qu’elle ne réponde avec toute l’arrogance qu’elle peut dégager. « Je veux pas être associée à un mec qui bat d’autres personnes avec UNE BARRE EN MÉTAL, Jung. »

Junghwan fronce les sourcils, un petit rictus cynique se dessinant sur son visage. « On a le même sang, t’es forcément associée à moi. »

Le regard de Jeemin devient encore plus glacial. « Ferme la, Jung. » Le ton de sa voix est sec, comme si elle en avait déjà assez de tout ça, de cette situation, de ses paroles, de lui.

Elle ne lui accorde plus qu’un bref coup d’œil avant de détourner les yeux. La situation est tendue, mais elle n’a plus l’énergie de la gérer. Ce n’est pas son problème.

Le taxi arrive enfin, se garant dans la rue avec un bruit de pneus qui crissent légèrement. Iroha monte rapidement à l’intérieur, sans un mot, visiblement lasse de la scène qui vient de se dérouler. Elle jette un dernier regard derrière elle, à Junghwan, avant de s’installer confortablement à l’arrière.

Jeemin reste quelques secondes à regarder Junghwan sur le trottoir, son regard dur et implacable. Puis, d’un geste fluide, elle sort une lingette de son sac à main, la tend vers lui sans un mot.

« Lave tes mains ensanglantées et monte. » La phrase est courte, presque moqueuse, mais le ton est autoritaire.

Junghwan, comme si cela ne le touchait pas, baisse légèrement les yeux et regarde la lingette qu’elle lui tend. Un soupir s’échappe de ses lèvres alors qu’il se penche pour prendre la lingette et commence à essuyer ses mains, sans se presser.

Il la fixe de nouveau, un regard lourd de sous-entendus. « Tu m’aides pas à me sentir moins con, tu sais. »

Jeemin sourit d’un air amusé. « Et toi, tu m’aides pas à avoir plus de respect pour toi. »

Il se contente de grogner, sans répondre, avant de monter dans le taxi. Une fois la porte fermée, le véhicule démarre, emportant les trois jeunes dans la nuit. Junghwan reste silencieux, les yeux braqués sur la fenêtre, tandis que Jeemin et Iroha échangent un regard, chacune absorbée par ses pensées.

FIN DE L’ÉPISODE 4

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