𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐄𝐒 | 𝐍𝐞𝐲𝐦𝐚𝐫 𝐉𝐫

Someone in his team

Packing was undoubtedly one of my least favorite activities. I mean, deciding which outfits and accessories I wanted was difficult because I couldn't really chose. My hair was already twisted since my hands didn't stop squeezing it every time I had a headache deciding which item from my closet was the most crucial. But the point exactly, everything in my room was important, which is the reason I got everything, right?

The more clothes I had to fold, the longer I stayed in my room with a cluttered environment surrounding me. Mama, for some inexplicable reason, did not help this time. She stated that she did not want to be held accountable for anything I was packing. To be honest, I already knew why. I wasn't able to manage my own problems without troubling anyone else because I tended to get emotional and had the patience as thin as this tight summer dress I was wearing. Even Leo understands this, which is why he didn't dare to speak to me as I was crumbling between heaps of clothes.

The real reason, though, was that Mama was sulking in her room. She was still struggling to accept the fact her sole daughter would be leaving the house shortly. Leave her alone. Even though I like the first concept because it felt weighty and excessive if she truly believed I would leave her alone so easy. Didn't she realize? she would always be followed by a bothersome girl who would say anything was on her mind, even if it was obnoxious and offensive, the moment I came from her stomach. Also, no matter how big I got, how independent I became, or how distant I got, I just could never really be away from her.

Regardless of how much foam was on my lips to convey it to her, I just simply let her be. It was certainly a surprise. And I knew because she still looked at me as if I were thirteen. Small, spoilt, yet still holding everything in her grasp. I assumed she enjoyed the concept of always wanting her assistance and support. That could be one of the reasons she still wanted me to compete in the beauty pageant.

Even though I just turned eighteen, Mama still surprised me with pink cream and cherries in every corner of my birthday cake. Just like I've always gotten before. I didn't hate it; in fact, I loved it. It only made it more difficult to see who I was and realize I wasn't the little girl with the plastic butterfly wings behind her shoulders, dancing around the kitchen while she made lunch. That I was now an adult, capable of making my own choices. And if I make the choice to move to Spain, I will.

"You're still trying to narrow down the doll? Papa will be furious if he finds you are trying to smuggle non-essential things. That suitcase is exclusively for your clothes." A voice spoke out from behind me. I looked around and saw my brother leaning against the door.

"Did I tell you not to come to my room?" I panted heavily, attempting to shove my stubborn suitcase aside. "And, for the record, I don't give a crap what Papa says. I'll take Lupita if I want to!"

Leo entered my room and sat on a chair, holding a juice box. He didn't mind my critical looks as he just walked in and sat down. Instead, he raised his two legs and sat on my bed. I was glaring at him, but he just sipped the juice box with a straw.

"Lupita, you say? So that's what she's called. You have a terrible knack for naming things."

I rolled my eyes and went back to my former scenario. I was pounding the mound of clothes in my luggage with both hands to make it easier to close later. Despite this, I had to bear the pain caused by the collision of my nails with the hard outside of the bag.

"Do you want me to help you with that? These muscles would go to waste if they were not used." Even though I had my back to him, I could see him smirking as he said it.

I glimpsed him from the side of my eyes as I shook my head. "No. Thanks. Besides, don't your legs have more muscles? because, you know, you kick balls with them and whatnot."