Scene: One Week Later – Dorm lounge
We were chilling in the lounge after rehearsals—me on the couch pretending to be famous, Nino counting the money he somehow "earned" selling snacks during rehearsal, and Mateo… reading again. Probably something with no pictures and too many words.
That's when she walked in. Hana. Hair curled like she just stepped out of a shampoo commercial, heels clicking across the floor like a threat.
"Jacob," she said, voice sugary enough to rot teeth. "Sweetie. Can we talk?"
"Oh no," Nino whispered, leaning back. "Here comes the glitter grenade."
I stood up like I was already on stage. "Of course, Hana. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I was just thinking… a performance like yours could really benefit from a solo moment. Without, you know—" she paused and flicked her eyes toward Nino and Mateo "—unnecessary distractions."
"Are you trying to break us up?" I said, half-gasping, half-laughing. "Because that's adorable."
"I'm just saying," she said, too casually, "you're clearly the star. And stars don't need… background noise."
Nino blinked. "lady, I'm the bassline. Without me, this whole show is just clapping off-beat."
Mateo didn't say anything. He didn't even look up. Just sipped his tea like she didn't exist. Which somehow made her shift uncomfortably in her heels.
She tried again the next day. This time with cookies.
"I baked these just for you," she said to me with a smile that said definitely poisoned.
Before I could reach for one, Nino snatched the box. "I'll be the test subject," he said, biting into one. Pause. "Yep. Just as dry as your attitude."
She came back the day after that with a fake flyer for a "better talent show," trying to convince me to switch. "They're offering real prize money," she said. "You know, for serious performers."
I almost fell for it. Almost.
Until Mateo finally looked at her and said, "The flyer's dated last year."
She turned red, mumbled something about "print errors," and stormed out.
"Is it just me," I said, "or is she weirdly polite to Mateo?"
"She's scared of him," Nino said instantly. "But in a 'he's the boss in a mafia movie' kind of way."
"She's not scared," I said, smirking. "She's… respectful."
"Uh-huh," Nino muttered, pocketing another cookie. "And I'm in this for the money"