↳ ❝WOULD IT EVEN MAKE A DIFFERENCE IF I TOLD HER NOW?❞
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Watching someone you love choose happiness with someone else is a particular kind of agony. It's a searing pain that Mateo could never have anticipated, one he wouldn't wish upon his worst enemy. Fate's cruel hand had dealt him an unwelcome card — the card of unfortunate timing.
Every glimmer of an opportunity he believed he might seize with Lovette was snatched away by the universe's uncanny ability to complicate matters. A preexisting boyfriend, a lingering ex, and the grim shadow of the accident that stole her parents. Mateo's chances, it seemed, were relentlessly ruined by the universe's capricious clockwork.
Yet, amid this incessant turmoil, Mateo had clung to a flicker of hope. The hope that, somehow, the stars would align and favour him. A hope that persisted despite the odds.
Then, like an unforeseen twist of irony, Lovette crossed paths with Chris. It seemed like the universe conspired to usher Chris into Lovette's world. A part of Mateo, a part he hated to admit, wished for their relationship to falter, for fate to recalibrate its balance. It was rooted in his own history with Lovette, in the emotions he had felt for her long before Chris entered the scene. He had loved her long before anyone else, and it was a love that remained unacknowledged, unreciprocated. Selfish though it may be, he longed for a chance, the moment he could point to and claim, "I was here first, I cared first."
But, instead, Mateo grappled with the cruel irony of being the spectator of his own love.
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Mateo's introduction to Lovette took place during his ninth-grade year, a time of transition and change. Freshly transplanted from Nevada to California, he found himself navigating the intricate social labyrinth of a new school, Harvard-Westlake. A dedicated figure skater since the tender age of six, Mateo had honed his skills on the ice over the years. And now, in a school as sprawling as this one, the allure of a figure skating club caught his attention, promising the joy of pursuing his passion within these unfamiliar walls.
His eyes lingered on the captivating black and white poster, where the silhouette of an ice skater seemed to embody the grace and elegance of the sport. The words detailing the club's involvement in competitions and showcases throughout the year beckoned him further. The time of the club's inaugural meeting was etched into his mind, a promise of exploration and potential friendships.
Minutes before the meeting's commencement, Mateo found himself at the ice rink, a place that felt like both a sanctuary and a realm of uncertainty. He arrived without skates, his curiosity and anticipation intermingling.
Then, from the corner of his perception, a soft voice brushed against his senses. A simple "Hey" wove through the air, leaving him unsure if it was directed at him. Regardless, he turned toward the source of the voice, and his gaze met hers.
