Every corner of the city glowed with the colors of Feria de Abril. Music, laughter and the sweet scent of fried churros blended in the warm night air.
And yet, I felt like the only one not celebrating.
Nothing at university was going according to plan. My parents wrote my life like a book of chapters - about achievements, the future and a career. But in none of them am I truly free.
And then there was Marcos.
Last year, I caught him cheating. Something he never meant for me to see. With someone else. Not just anyone - his roommate's girlfriend. I had to watch him destroy something we had built together.
Since then, my thoughts keep returning to that moment. His face. To his decision. The betrayal I once believed I would only experience once in a life time.
And yet - tonight, I'm going to the festival. For Sofia. For the tradition we've loved since childhood. For the world where we once used to be inseparable. It isn't easy. I feel it in every step as I approach the square.
My phone rings. I don't even need to look at the screen. I knew who was calling.
"What's my queen of chaos doing?" Sofia's excited voice bursts through the speaker.
"Lying here, trying to figure out how to avoid you and this entire celebration." I reply dryly. Our friendship thrives on sarcasm. It works.
"Vargas, get your lazy ass out of bed. Put on something sexy, paint that perfect face, and move it to the square." Sofia never accepts "no" as an answer. And she always knows exactly what to say to make me move.
"I'll be there in twenty minutes. Bye."
I hang up before she can deliver another life lesson about living in the moment. Tonight.. I'm not sure I want to.
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I walk through a dimly lit alley on my way to the square. It's quieter here. The festival music reaches this street only as distant echoes. For the first time all evening, I can hear my own thoughts.
And maybe that's the problem.
"Soon everything will go according to plan"
The voice comes from the shadows near the tall walls of a house. Male. Calm. Certain. I stopped.
His eyes travel over me, from head to toe. And when they lock with mine - a cold electric current runs through me.
My legs tremble. Not from fear. From something more dangerous.
Fear and desire twist together inside me like two forces refusing to separate. His hands look exactly like the kind that would hold you firmly in place. His neck carries the trace of a strong masculine scent. And his chest -
One step closer, and I know I would want to feel it beneath my palm. And yet, his eyes.
In them, I see my own fear. Why are they warning me?
Why won't they show me the desire I feel burning beneath the surface?
And then he disappears. All that remained was empty space and the feeling that something had just begun, without me knowing that.
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"BOO!!" Sofia appears in front of me like a ghost.
"For God's sake, Sofia!"
"Earth to Valentina. Why are you standing in the middle of this circus like you've gone mute?"
I want to tell her I just met someone who unraveled me with a single look. Instead, I inhale.
"Sofia... how did you feel when you met Victor?"
She narrows her eyes. "Uhmmm, good. What happened?"
How do you explain that you felt emotionally shaken by someone you didn't even exchange words with?
"I met someone."
Her eyes light up. "Oh?"
"Nothing happened. Just... a look." And somehow, that was enough.
"I've never felt anything like it. Not even with Marcos. My heart felt calm, but my head was chaos. My body reacted before I had time to think." The words spill out of me.
"I imagined him kissing me. How he smells. I can still hear his voice."
"VALENTINA?!" she screams across the square.
"Shh! Everyone's staring!" I tried to calm her down, but it was useless. Sofia was an emotional bomb.
"You're in love!" she shouted with excitement.
"No," I exhale: " But something pulled me toward him. Like I carry the north pole inside me... and he's the south."
"Do you at least know his name?" I shake my head.
"Perfect," she scoffs: "The most romantic moment of your life and you don't even know his name." Maybe. And yet I know it won't be the last time
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With vodka in hand, we run through the streets of Seville, laughing, stumbling, letting the music swallow us whole. For a moment, the black hole in my life disappears. For a moment, I'm just a girl laughing.
Sofia drags us into a club near the center. Electronic music vibrates through the walls. The bass pulses beneath my skin.
"You in?" she grins.
"Always." I grabbed her hand, and we burst inside.
Neon lights. Sweat. Laughter. A place where anyone can be whoever they want - with whoever they want.
"What are we drinking?" I asked her at the bar.
"Vodka and juice." she said - and immediately shouted at the bartender: "Hey, handsome!"
I roll my eyes. God she was already drunk.
"Two vodka and juices—for me and my queen of chaos."
Fantastic. Now the entire club knows.
The bartender leans toward me. "So, queen of chaos?"
"So what?" I shouted back over the noise.
He smiles the way guys do when they think they're got a chance.
"Can I get your number?"
"I have a boyfriend." I winkled. A lie. But it worked.
I I found Sofia on the dance floor, moving with someone I couldn't properly see in the flashing lights. I pushed through the crowd, handed her the drink over her shoulder, and instinctively pulled the guy away from her.
"Relax, Val. He's gay" she laughed: "Just look at him."
She wasn't wrong. Perfect manicure. Better makeup than mine. Confidence you could package and sell.
"Sorry," I shouted in his ear: "Thought you were trying to hit on her."
He laughed. "Chosé. I'm gay. And you look stunning."
"Valentina. Sofia's friend."
From that moment on, it flowed naturally.
We danced for hours. Laughing. Drinking. Talking. Chosé was a gentleman — bringing drinks, paying for them, making sure we were steady on our feet.
He fit. Exactly the kind of person you don't realize you're missing until they suddenly show up.Someone who doesn't want anything. Just exists.
After a while, the night began to slow down. We were properly drunk. Chosé wasn't. He decided he would walk us home. We dropped Sofia off first.
"Hey guys, this was the best night of my life!" she shouted at us from the doorway of her house.
"We love you!" I shouted back. We blew her a kiss and continued on our way.
As we approached the hill where that disgustingly large house stood, my mood changed in a second. Chosé noticed immediately.
"What's wrong, babe?"
"Nothing," I sighed: "I'm just heading straight back into the stereotype — arguments with my parents and endless overthinking about my pathetic life." I hugged him.
"Life is like a skateboard - sometimes you fall, sometimes you ride, but the important thing is to keep your balance and not forget to have fun," he said.
He lifted my chin and added: "And you, sweetheart, had fun tonight. So now keep your balance."
"You're amazing, you know that?" A small tear slipped down my cheek, and he gently wiped it away with his finger.
"Where have you two been my whole life?" he said.
We exchanged numbers. I thanked him for the best night and finally headed home.
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In front of the house, I texted Sofia to make sure she was okay and told her I was home too. When I reached into my purse, I realized I didn't have my keys.
Shit. My mom is going to kill me.
I searched my purse, my pockets, even the ground around me. For ten minutes, I nervously paced up and down the street in front of the house, my heart pounding from stress and the remaining alcohol in my system.
Finally, I gave up and pulled out my phone to call my mom. And then ..
Someone suddenly covered my mouth from behind. I didn't even have time to scream.
My body was dragged around the corner of our house and pressed against the cold concrete wall. My breath caught in my throat.
It was him.
His eyes were darker than before. Not just deep - hungry.
The hand covering my mouth trembled slightly. Not from weakness. From tension.
His scent surrounded me - warm, intoxicating, dangerously familiar.
Slowly, I lifted my hand and touched his palm. He never stopped looking at me. Gently, I pulled his hand away from my mouth. His fingers moved to my neck. They stopped at my pulse, which was beating wildly beneath my skin.
Lower.
Collarbone.
Chest.
And then my hip, which he gripped firmly.
A quiet breath escaped my lips. I moved my face closer to his. I could feel his breath against my skin. I was drunk on him. Not alcohol.
Him.
While I was lost in the moment, his other hand slipped into his back pocket and pulled out my keys.
"You stole my keys?" My voice trembled.
Our lips were only millimeters apart. I was about to kiss him when he spoke.
"Don't look for me."
In the same second, he pulled away, looked straight into my eyes, and disappeared into the darkness.
He didn't say it angrily.
Not coldly.
It sounded more like a warning. Or perhaprs a plea.
I remained leaning against the concrete, my keys still tightly in my hand. I could still feel the warmth of his touch on my neck.
This wasn't a coincidence.
I knew I would look for him. And I knew he knew it too.