“I’ll handle it,” I assure him softly, conviction strengthening my voice. “Nothing more will happen.”
Greyson studies me for a long moment, as though measuring the sincerity of my promise. Finally, he nods once, turning back to his books. “Make sure it doesn’t.”
I rise from my seat, the coffee now cold and forgotten. The weight of his words presses heavily on my chest, reminding me that my actions have repercussions far beyond my own desires. As I step out of the office, a renewed resolve forms within me. For Gerardo, for Greyson, and for myself, I must find the strength to end this reckless attraction to Mateo once and for all, no matter the cost.
MATEO
The hallway echoes with the usual bustling chatter of students between classes, but it barely registers in my mind. Christmas break started yesterday, but today was the last day to grab any final materials before the school closes. My phone vibrates in my pocket, an incessant reminder that life refuses to pause, even when all I crave is stillness. Pulling it out, my stomach drops when I see my father’s name flashing brightly on the screen.
“Hello?” My voice wavers slightly, betraying my immediate apprehension.
“Mateo.” My father’s voice is laced with barely restrained anger, cutting straight to the core of my anxiety. “We need to talk.”
I swallow thickly, stepping into the nearest bathroom and locking myself into a stall, seeking privacy from prying ears and curious eyes. “What about?”
“Don’t play games with me,” he barks harshly. “Your mother finally told me you’re dancing again. I warned you about this. I won’t allow you to ruin your life again, or ours.”
My heart pounds painfully against my ribs, each beat punctuating his anger. “Dad, please, just listen—”
“Listen? Listen to what, Mateo? More promises? More lies? Do you even understand what you’ve put this family through?”
His words slice through me, forcing memories I’ve desperately tried to bury to surge to the surface. My vision blurs with hot tears as his anger sharpens. “I remember, Dad. Every single moment. I know what I did.”
His voice softens marginally, but the fury remains evident. “Do you, Mateo? Do you remember us finding you barely alive in that hospital bed? Your mother’s cries echoing through the halls? Do you remember your sister, Grace, sobbing because she thought she’d lost you forever?”
A painful lump forms in my throat, choking off my breath. The image of Grace’s tear-streaked face flashes vividly through my mind, her words still ringing clearly, as if she’d just spoken them:“I can’t do this anymore, Mateo. You almost died. I can’t keep watching you destroy yourself.”
I grip the phone tightly, knuckles whitening with the strain as my voice trembles with raw desperation. “Dad, please. I’m begging you. I’m not that person anymore. I’m fighting so hard every day to prove that to you, to Mami, to Grace—”
“Grace won’t even say your name,” he interrupts bitterly. “You’ve broken something inside her that’s still not healed.Dancing is what helped put you in that hospital bed, Mateo. How can we trust that this won’t lead you straight back there?”
A tear slips down my cheek, silently betraying my crumbling resolve, and my voice cracks painfully. “Because I need to prove to myself that I’m stronger than my mistakes. Dancing was never the problem, Dad. It was me. The drugs, the recklessness, the desperation to escape. I need to dance now more than ever because it reminds me of who I am meant to be.”
Silence stretches agonizingly on the other end, broken only by his ragged breathing. Finally, his voice returns, low and strained with raw emotion. “If you fall again, Mateo, if you spiral… I’m coming to New York myself and dragging you back home. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” I whisper brokenly, the sound of his disbelief ringing in every word he says.
The call ends abruptly, leaving me trembling and leaning against the cold bathroom wall. The tears fall freely now, my heart shattering with everything I’ve put my family through. The crushing guilt I’d worked so hard to bury returns tenfold, gripping my soul mercilessly.
I slide down the wall, sinking to the cold, tiled floor, burying my face in my shaking hands. I sob quietly, alone in the sterile silence, each tear a silent plea for forgiveness I fear may never come.
Yet even in this moment of deep despair, an undeniable truth whispers softly within me. I can’t give up. I won’t. Not when I’m finally learning how to breathe again.
“Merry Christmas,” I whisper as my heart incinerates to ash.
The world outside feels distant and muffled, as if I’m submerged underwater. Each breath I take is labored and piercing as splintered glass, filled with echoes of my father’s harsh words and unrelenting accusations. They replay incessantly, like a needle stuck on a broken record, burrowing deeper with each painful repetition.
Roger’s SUV sits idling at the curb, its glossy black surface reflecting distorted images of passing life, entirely disconnected from my reality. I slip into the leather seat, letting the car door shut with a hollow thud. My silence is deafening, speaking volumes to Roger, who studies me briefly through the rearview mirror. His eyes—always kind and patient—hold quiet concern now.
“Everything alright, Mateo?” His voice is gentle, yet hesitant.
Words crowd my throat, bitter and raw, but I choke them back, unwilling to release the flood just yet. The city outside blurs into meaningless streaks of color, vibrant but lacking clarity. My fingers curl into my palms, nails biting into flesh, grounding me briefly. Finally, I manage a response, forced through clenched teeth. “Just take me to Fusion Core.”
A pregnant pause hangs between us, heavy with unspoken truths. “Are you sure? It’s Christmas Eve, Mateo.”
His compassion only fuels my frustration. “I suppose Dad already told you about my dancing,” I mutter bitterly.
He doesn’t answer immediately, his silence louder than any confession. I stare into his reflected gaze, the muted sympathy confirming my suspicions. Resentment surges inside my chest, hot and merciless, further poisoning my already turbulent emotions.
