When I step back into my apartment in Barcelona, Camilla is already waiting. The moment I push the door open, she runs to me, arms tight around my shoulders. "You're back!" she says, her voice bubbling with excitement. She grabs my suitcase without hesitation, dragging it into the bedroom, the same room where we used to share a bed, whispering secrets until dawn.
I drop onto the couch, exhausted. My eyes land on a glass of mango juice sitting on the table. Without asking, I take it and drink, the sweetness grounding me.
Camilla leans against the bedroom door frame, watching me with a grin. "Oh, how I missed you, my ride or die."
She joins me on the couch, her eyes sparkling. "Tell me everything. What did I miss? Gael?" she teases, smiling knowingly.
I sigh, staring at the ceiling before sitting upright. "We kissed. In the kitchen. He paid the hospital bills. And… apparently, Mama knows his mom."
Camilla gasps, clutching her chest dramatically. "See? You two are meant to fall in love!"
I roll my eyes, but the heat in my cheeks betrays me. "We also… slept together."
Her jaw drops. "Wow. I think from all that, you deserve a Grammy."
I laugh despite myself. "Your turn. What did I miss?"
She wiggles her brows. "Juan and I have been going out. And remember that girl Diego was with the other night? They're official now. She's his girlfriend."
I blink. "Wait. The short-haired one? The pretty one? Damn, Diego has taste."
Camilla smirks. "And Juan? We've shared two nights together. Remarkable." She leans closer, her grin widening. "Oh, and the good news? I'm enrolling in your campus. How great is that?"
My eyes widen. "You're kidding."
We scream together, clutching each other's hands, laughing until Doña Pilar knocks at the door.
I open it, smiling politely. "Oh, you're back," she says. "I thought there was trouble, so I came to check."
"Nothing's going on. Thank you for checking in."
I closed the door before she could finish her sentence, the latch clicking with a finality that felt far more satisfying than polite. Whatever she had been about to say could stay on the other side. I leaned back against the wood, cool and solid against my spine, letting out a slow breath through my nose. Across the room, Camilla caught my eye. I tilted my head slightly and shaped the words with exaggerated care, soundless but sharp: She's so annoying.
Camilla laughs, then waves me off. "Go sleep, freshen up. Tonight, we're going to a beach party."
When I wake, Camilla is already standing at the mirror, her reflection sharp and focused as she applies her makeup with practiced ease.
"Come on, hurry. We're going to be late," she says without turning. Then, almost casually, "Oh, and Daniel called."
I step into the hallway and return his call, keeping my voice low. "Meet us at the party. And don't say a word to Gael that I'm around."
Daniel promises without hesitation.
We get dressed in a rush of color and heat, fabric catching the light as if it were alive. Camilla pulls on a neon green crop top and white shorts, her eyeliner clean and precise, her lips painted a confident coral. I slide into a hot pink dress that clings to my waist, my hair left loose and untamed, my lips glazed in red. Side by side, we look like fire given shape, ready to walk straight into the night.
The beach is already buzzing when we arrive. Music pulses through the sand, lights are strung overhead like fallen stars, and bodies move in time with the beat. I inhale the salty air, hoping it will steady me, hoping it will be enough.
Then I see him.
Gael.
He is surrounded by girls, their laughter spilling freely, their hands resting on his shoulders as if they belong there. Their voices are sweet and shallow, and he leans back among them, careless and untouchable. As if Colombia never happened. As if the night we spent together was nothing more than a blur already forgotten.
My stomach tightens. The fire I carried inside me turns sharp and cold.
Camilla squeezes my hand. Daniel's gaze flicks toward me, protective and alert. I force a smile onto my face, but inside, the storm has already begun to rage.
I step away from the crowd, the noise and laughter pressing too tightly against my skin. I need air, space, something quiet enough to breathe in. My heels sink into the cool sand as I move farther from the lights, each step pulling me toward the quieter streets that run parallel to the beach. The music fades behind me, replaced by the distant hush of waves and the soft hum of streetlights.
And that is when I see him.
Gabriel.
He is leaning against a lamppost as if he belongs there, one shoulder resting lazily against the metal, a cigarette burning between his fingers. The ember glows briefly when he inhales, a small, dangerous spark in the dark. His eyes lift the moment I stop, locking onto mine with unsettling precision, as though he had been waiting all along.
There is nothing careless about him. His presence is sharp and controlled, a quiet gravity that pulls without asking. So different from Gael's loud chaos, from the reckless energy that crashes and burns. Gabriel feels deliberate, measured, like a blade kept carefully hidden.
"Alma," he says, my name smooth on his tongue, his voice low and steady. "Didn't expect to see you here."
The sound of it tightens my chest. The way he looks at me makes it hard to tell whether this is coincidence or something far more intentional. The streetlight casts shadows along his face, emphasizing the calm confidence in his expression, the intensity he does not bother to soften.
I swallow, unsure what to say, unsure of what this moment is about to become. All I know is that nothing about this is simple anymore.
The night shifts around us, heavier, charged. Whatever I thought was waiting for me here is no longer enough. One thing is suddenly, unmistakably clear.
The night has just become far more complicated.
I glance back toward the beach where the music still pulses faintly, a distant heartbeat carried on the night air, but Gabriel's gaze holds me in place. It feels heavy, deliberate, as if stepping away would take real effort. The cigarette between his fingers burns down to a fragile line of ash. He flicks it into the sand with easy precision, the motion so smooth it feels practiced, intentional.
"You look different," he says. His eyes move slowly, taking in the curve of my dress, the looseness of my hair, the way the night seems to cling to me. "Barcelona suits you."
I let out a laugh that sounds wrong even to my own ears, thin and brittle around the edges. "You always did know how to flatter."
He steps closer. The lamplight sharpens the line of his jaw, casts shadows that deepen the seriousness in his expression. "It is not flattery if it is true." His voice stays calm, even, but there is something beneath it, a weight pressing just under the surface, a question he does not ask aloud but clearly expects me to feel.
My pulse falters. For a moment I consider turning away, brushing him off, choosing distance over whatever this is. But the intensity in his eyes anchors me where I stand. He is not like Gael with his reckless charm and careless ease. He is not like Daniel with his steady presence and quiet safety. Gabriel feels intentional. Patient. Dangerous in a way that does not rush, in a way that waits.
"Why are you here?" I ask at last, lowering my voice as if the street itself might be listening.
His smile comes slowly, unhurried, carrying a knowing edge that unsettles me. "Maybe I came for the party. Maybe I came for you."
The words settle between us, thick and heavy, blending into the warm night air. I shake my head and try to laugh, but the sound fades before it fully forms, dissolving into silence.
Behind me, the music swells again, a reminder of Gael's laughter cutting through the crowd, of Camilla glowing under neon lights, of Daniel's eyes always watching, always guarding. But here, under the quiet hum of the lamppost, the world feels smaller, narrower. It feels reduced to Gabriel's unwavering gaze, my own unsteady breath, and the dangerous pull of what might come next.
Gabriel is not a stranger I stumble upon by chance tonight. He is familiar in the quiet, everyday ways that matter. He is my workmate, the one who always finds a reason to stop by my desk, who remembers exactly how I take my coffee without ever needing to ask, who listens when I speak as if every word deserves his full attention. For weeks now his feelings have hovered between us, unspoken but unmistakable, written in the way his eyes soften when they meet mine. I have never encouraged him. I never needed to.
To me, Gabriel has always been steady. Reliable. Safe. And somehow, that has never been enough.
Yet here, under the lonely wash of the streetlight, he feels unfamiliar. There is nothing gentle about his presence now. It is sharp, intentional, grounded in a control that unsettles me. So different from Gael's reckless chaos, from the way he burns bright and careless, leaving everything scorched in his wake. This contrast rattles something loose inside me, makes my certainty falter.
I shake my head and force a smile that barely holds together. "Go back to the party," I tell him. My voice comes out clipped, tighter than I mean it to. "I need space."
He does not argue. He does not apologize. He simply stays.
When I turn and head back toward the lights, Gabriel walks beside me, matching my pace in silence. His presence is constant, solid, pressing against the storm churning inside my chest. The image of Gael surrounded by those girls follows me with every step, their laughter too loud, their hands too familiar. The thought digs in deep, sharp and merciless, lodging itself somewhere beneath my ribs where it refuses to loosen.
As we reach the sand, Diego spots me from across the beach. His face breaks into a wide grin and he rushes toward me, arms already open. "Alma!" he shouts, wrapping me in a tight embrace. "You're here! How are you?"
I cling to the moment, to the normality of it, and force brightness into my voice. "I'm okay. I came earlier today."
Relief washes over his face as he pulls back, still smiling. Then his gaze shifts to Gabriel, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "And who's this?"
Gabriel opens his mouth, ready to speak, but panic rises in me before he can get a word out. I cut in quickly, the truth bending under the weight of my fear, the words sharper than I intend as they leave my lips.
"This is Gabriel," I say. "My workmate. Also my date for today."
The lie settles heavily in my chest, warm and uncomfortable, but I do not take it back. Somewhere behind us, the music keeps playing, the night keeps moving, and I realize with a quiet ache that I am already standing at the edge of something I cannot easily undo.
Gabriel freezes. The surprise crosses his face so quickly it almost feels like a flicker of light, gone before it can fully settle. He does not correct me. He does not question it. He only offers Diego a polite, restrained smile, the kind that keeps everything carefully contained.
Diego laughs, already distracted, the word date sliding past him as if it never mattered. "Gabriel, Gael," he says lightly. "What a coincidence."
Gabriel's brow creases. "Gael?"
Diego shrugs, unconcerned. "Just my friend. He can be a pain if you get on his wrong side." With that, he waves us off and heads back toward his girlfriend, slipping his arm around her shoulders as they disappear into the cluster of people gathered nearby.
My eyes follow him without permission. The crowd shifts and sways, bodies moving in rhythm with the music, until suddenly there is a clear opening. Gael stands there, unmistakable. His gaze lifts and finds mine instantly. Concern is written plainly across his face, sharp and undeniable.
My breath catches in my throat. Panic blooms, hot and fast. I look down before I can stop myself, breaking the connection as if it burns. My fingers close around Gabriel's hand and I pull him forward, needing motion, needing distance, needing something solid to hold onto.
Camilla notices immediately. Her brows lift in question. Daniel's eyes narrow, alert and assessing. They exchange a look that needs no words. Gabriel does not belong here.
"This is Gabriel," I say quickly, forcing a smile that feels brittle on my lips. "My workmate. He's here tonight."
Relief softens their expressions, just enough. They greet him politely, warmly even, but there is a subtle distance in their voices, a careful courtesy that does not invite him fully in. I feel it settle between us like an invisible line.
I turn again, searching for Gael without meaning to. He is no longer alone. Diego stands beside him now, his girlfriend tucked close, the rest of the crowd drifting elsewhere. The space around Gael feels emptier, quieter. It does nothing to erase what I saw earlier. The image of him surrounded by girls clings to me, raw and vivid, refusing to loosen its grip.
I reach for a glass of tequila and take a sip. The bitterness makes me wince. I sniff it, suddenly suspicious, wondering if it is even tequila at all. I lift a brow, dismiss the thought, and take another breath.
Then I straighten my back. I square my shoulders. I walk toward my friends with my smile stretched tight and practiced, holding it in place while the storm inside me rages, loud and relentless, threatening to spill no matter how carefully I try to contain it.
The music swells as we push deeper into the crowd, the bass vibrating through the sand and straight into my bones. Camilla grabs my wrist, her fingers warm and insistent. Daniel lifts his glass in the air, grinning, and suddenly the four of us are pulled into the rhythm as if the night itself has claimed us. A small table appears between bodies, lined with shots, the clear liquid catching the lights and flickering like tiny flames daring us to get burned.
We cheer, our voices colliding and tangling together, and knock them back one by one. The alcohol hits my throat fast and sharp, a living heat that makes my eyes water and my chest loosen. I laugh before I can stop myself, the sound spilling out freely. Camilla screams with delight, throwing her head back, while Daniel pounds the table in approval, the noise swallowed by the music.
Then Gabriel surprises us.
Quiet Gabriel steps forward into the loose circle that forms around us, his shoulders rolling as he finds the beat. This is not the man who stands politely beside my desk or speaks softly over morning coffee. His movements are sharp and playful, edged with a confidence I have never seen in him before. He spins once, drops low with controlled ease, then rises smoothly, a grin spreading across his face that feels like a challenge.
Camilla shrieks and claps wildly, her laughter bright and infectious. Daniel whistles, shaking his head in disbelief. I laugh too, genuine and breathless, something light finally breaking through the heaviness I have been carrying. For a brief, shining moment, the tension dissolves into pure sound and motion. We are hyped and reckless, bodies pressed close, sweat and tequila blending into something loud and alive.
But even as I move, even as I let the music take over my limbs, Gael is still there. His image slips through the cracks in my joy, uninvited and relentless. The girls around him, their hands resting too easily on his shoulders, their laughter spilling over him like waves that refuse to recede.
The thought strikes again, sharp and unforgiving. It buries itself deep in my chest, right where it hurts the most, and no amount of music or movement can drown it out.
I force the smile onto my face and keep dancing, even when my chest feels too tight, even when the music can't quite reach the place where it hurts. Gabriel's grin flashes beside me, bright and effortless. Camilla's neon top glows under the lights, electric against the dark. Daniel's laughter booms above the beat, loud and grounding, as if joy alone could anchor us all.
I raise my glass high, screaming with them, letting my voice blend into the noise until it loses its shape. I move, I laugh, I pretend. I tell myself the night is mine, that the music belongs to me, that none of this touches the fragile place inside my chest. And for a fleeting second, I almost believe it.
One thing I know right now is that I am drunk, and I cannot stop. I keep drinking because I want to shake off the feeling Gael left in me after I saw him with those random girls draped all over him. I don't even understand why it hurts so much. We never defined what we were that day, so I have no right to act like this. He isn't mine.
Still, the thought claws at me, and I tell myself, Screw everything.
The next minute, the music begins to fade, though I can still feel as if I am standing in the center of where it should be loudest. My head spins, the beat echoing inside me even as the world grows quieter. My friends are already gone to the night, passed out in their own corners of exhaustion. Camilla lies sprawled on the floor, her neon top glowing faintly under the dim lights, her laughter from earlier now replaced by silence.
I stand there, swaying, caught between the fading music and the storm inside me, knowing I am too far gone to stop.