Beneath City Lights

Chapter 1: Breaking Free

𝑨𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒊𝒓

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I stood in Gabriel's office, my arms crossed tightly as I stared into his dark brown eyes. They used to warm me with their intensity, but today, they felt distant and cold, like he wasn't fully here with me.

"You always do this!" I snapped, my voice rising with frustration. "I told you weeks ago about tonight, and yet again, you're too busy to even show up."

Gabriel's gaze flicked away, his jaw tight. His broad frame leaned against the edge of his pristine desk, a picture of someone weighed down by the world but unwilling to let anyone in. "Avenoir, you know how insane things have been with the launch. I didn't choose this."

"But you chose not to make time for us. Again," I shot back. "It's like I'm just another item on your to-do list, and it's exhausting, Gabriel."

Gabriel West, a name whispered in reverence in the fashion industry, the man I'd fallen in love with two years ago. Back then, we admired each other's drive, our ambitions intertwining like the fabric of one of his luxurious designs. He had built his brand from the ground up, and I, always on the go with my modeling career, was drawn to his vision, his relentless work ethic. But somewhere along the way, his work had become our third wheel.

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his thick black hair. "I'm doing this for us, Avenoir. For our future."

"Is it?" My voice softened, but the edge of hurt was still there. "Because it feels like you're doing it for you. Your dreams, your company... your name."

He flinched, and for a moment, I thought he'd reach out, try to close the distance growing between us. But instead, he turned his gaze to the floor, his silence louder than anything he could have said.

The lump in my throat swelled, and I had to fight back the tears threatening to blur my vision. How did we get here? How did we go from being partners, dreamers in love, to this—two people unable to meet in the middle anymore?

"I can't do this," I whispered, more to myself than to him.

Gabriel's head snapped up, his brow furrowed. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I can't keep pretending this is working. I feel like I'm losing myself, Gabriel. I need space to figure out who I am outside of all of this—outside of you."

His expression shifted, frustration mixed with disbelief. "You're serious."

I nodded, even though every part of me was trembling. "Yeah. I am."

The silence was suffocating, but I held my ground. This wasn't just about a missed dinner or broken promises. This was about me reclaiming the pieces of myself that I had given up for him, for us.

"I never wanted to hurt you," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I know," I replied, my voice steady now. "But sometimes love just isn't enough."

With that, I turned on my heels, walking out of his office and into the hallway. My chest tightened as I left behind the man who had once been my entire world. The elevator doors opened with a ding, and I stepped inside, the cool metal walls pressing in around me.

As the doors closed, I leaned against the wall, exhaling a shaky breath. I wasn't sure if I felt relief or heartbreak—maybe both. My phone buzzed in my purse, and for a brief second, I thought about reaching out to Gabriel. But no. I couldn't go back. Not this time.

I scrolled through my contacts until I landed on the one person who could pull me out of this funk: Camila Rodriguez. She and I had been inseparable since we were kids, two creative souls who found magic in fashion and playfulness in the mundane. She was everything I wasn't today—vibrant, bold, fearless. If anyone could help me get through this, it was her.

I hit the call button.

"Vee, darling!" Camila's voice rang through the line with her usual upbeat energy. "Tell me you're not calling me with good news because I could really use a distraction."

I laughed despite the heaviness in my chest. "Actually, I need you. I just broke up with Gabriel."

There was a pause, and then, "Finally."

I blinked. "What?"

"You've been unhappy for months, Vee. I've been waiting for you to see it. You need someone who's all in, not halfway here, halfway at a board meeting."

I sighed, sinking into the back of the cab I had hailed. "I just feel so... lost. Like I don't know who I am without him."

"You're Avenoir Castrillon," Camila declared with a kind of certainty only she could manage. "You're a powerhouse, an icon, and my best friend. You don't need anyone to define you."

A small smile crept onto my face. "You always know exactly what to say."

"I know. Now, come meet me at Bar Alcazar. I'm already here with a killer bottle of wine, and we're going to toast to your freedom and your fabulousness."

"On my way," I replied, feeling a flicker of hope as I hung up.

As the city streets blurred by, I thought back to when Gabriel and I first met at one of his fashion shows. He had complimented my outfit—something about how effortlessly chic I looked, even though I'd thrown it together last minute. We had laughed, flirted, and from that night, everything seemed like a whirlwind romance. He had been so attentive in the beginning, always making me feel seen. But somewhere along the way, the work became the center of his world, and I became an afterthought.

By the time I arrived at the bar, Camila was already waiting, a glass of red wine in hand and a bright smile on her face. She was dressed in a vibrant orange wrap dress, her hair styled in her sigature curly fro, and her eyes sparkled with excitement.

"There she is," she called out, pulling me into a tight hug. "Let's drink to new beginnings!"

I let her energy wash over me as I sat down, the tension slowly leaving my body. Camila poured me a glass, her eyes scanning my face.

"Now, tell me everything."

And I did. I told her about the fight, about the feeling of being lost in Gabriel's shadow, and about my need for independence. She listened, her expression softening as I poured out my heart.

"Vee," she said softly, once I had finished. "You've always been so much more than anyone else's definition of you. Gabriel, your agency, the industry—they don't get to decide who you are. You do."

I nodded, feeling the truth of her words sink in. "I just don't know where to go from here."

"You'll figure it out," she said, her confidence unwavering. "And in the meantime, you've got me. We'll make sure you rediscover the woman who's been hiding under all that pressure."

I smiled, the weight on my chest lifting just a little. With Camila by my side, maybe—just maybe—I could find my way back to myself.