I Was Never Yours To Begin With

chapter 11

The soft chatter and music of the festival continued to fill the air around them, but Santiago couldn't help but feel a sense of calm in the small circle of people standing by the water. Escarlatta was brushing herself off, still making light of her clumsy tumble, but there was a look in her eyes that Santiago recognized. Beneath the bravado, she wasn't as carefree as she wanted to appear. It was a vulnerability he had seen before-deep, hidden, and often buried beneath sarcasm or deflection.

"You didn't need to follow us, Santi," Escarlatta said, breaking the silence with her usual sharp tone. But it didn't feel as biting this time. "You know that, right?"

Santiago shrugged, not answering right away. He glanced over at Bonnie, who had moved a little away from the group, her arms crossed. Her eyes were focused on the water, but there was something in her posture that made him wonder if she was still on edge. "Maybe," he said at last. "But I guess, after everything, I wanted to see how you all were. You know... how we all are."

Enrique snorted, his eyes flickering with amusement. "Look at you, trying to get all sentimental on us. Thought you were supposed to be the serious protector type."

Santiago gave a light laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "I can be serious. But I'm also a little tired of pretending everything's fine when it's not." He glanced at Bonnie, wondering if his words had struck a chord with her.

Bonnie looked up then, her expression softening. "Yeah, well... we all have our things, right?" Her voice was quieter than usual, a touch of vulnerability sneaking in. "Doesn't mean it's easy to admit."

Escarlatta, who had been adjusting her coat with a dismissive wave, shot a glance at Bonnie. Bonnie sighed, continuing, "If you want honesty, fine. We've all got our issues. It's not just you, Santiago." She looked him square in the eye, her expression strangely serious. "And we're not all bad."

Santiago nodded, sensing the shift in Bonnie's tone, the way her voice seemed to carry more weight than usual. The easy camaraderie that had always defined their group was slipping through his fingers, replaced by something thicker, harder to grasp.

"Not all bad," Santiago repeated softly, more to himself than anyone else. It was the first time in a long while that the words had felt like a challenge, a weight to be measured. He felt a flicker of uncertainty-a rare sensation for him-and he shifted his stance slightly, instinctively tightening his grip on the strap of his bag.

Enrique, still with his usual smirk, leaned in toward Escarlatta. "This all sounds a little too touchy-feely for my liking. What is this, a group therapy session?" His tone was light, but there was an edge to it, something he wasn't hiding quite as well as he thought.

Escarlatta let out a sharp laugh, but it lacked its usual warmth. She turned back to the water, her eyes narrowing at the distant reflection of the festival lights dancing on the surface. "Yeah, well. It's not like we have all the time in the world to figure things out, huh?"

Santiago felt the temperature of the moment drop. There was something in her words, in the way she had spoken them, that made the air around them feel charged-like the kind of tension that came before a storm, just before the first crack of thunder.

Bonnie glanced over at her, her gaze darkening. "What does that mean?"

Escarlatta shrugged, but there was a tightness around her shoulders, her movements suddenly rigid. "It means things aren't just going to magically fix themselves, Bonnie. So we can keep pretending everything's fine, or we can start facing up to what's really going on."

Bonnie's posture straightened, her arms uncrossing slightly, but there was a flicker of something raw in her expression. "You're the last one who should talk about facing things, Escarlatta." Her voice had a dangerous sharpness to it now, an undercurrent of old frustrations rising to the surface.

Santiago felt the shift in the air around them, a sudden weight pressing down on the conversation, as though the ground itself had become unstable. His instincts flared-he stepped between the two women without thinking, not wanting to be caught in the middle of this.

"Enough," he said, his voice low, but there was an authority in it that stopped both of them. His gaze flickered between Bonnie and Escarlatta, trying to assess the tension that had flared so quickly. "This isn't the time or place."

Enrique, ever the instigator, scoffed. "Yeah, what are you gonna do, play hero now?"

Santiago's eyes snapped to Enrique. He could feel his heart rate spike, an old anger pushing against the surface. He'd never been one for confrontation, but there was something about Enrique's tone-something too dismissive, too careless.

"Don't test me, Enrique," Santiago said, his voice low and steady, but the weight of his words hung in the air. "I'm not in the mood for your games."

For a brief moment, the world around them seemed to hold its breath. Escarlatta and Bonnie both remained silent, the tension between them palpable, yet a new tension pulsed beneath the surface-something unspoken, a crack in the veneer of their usual banter.

Enrique held Santiago's gaze, his smirk faltering for just a second. But it wasn't enough to break the mood. His shoulders tensed, the playful attitude slipping away as he straightened up. "Fine," he muttered, but the edge to his voice was still there. "Guess we'll all just sit here and feel our feelings then."

The quiet that followed was suffocating. The noise from the festival, once a distant hum, seemed to blur into a background murmur, as though the world around them was pulling back, leaving only the four of them standing at the edge of something fragile.

Santiago could feel the weight of his own breath in his chest, the pressure of unspoken words building between them all. He opened his mouth to say something-anything-but before he could, a loud crash echoed in the distance, followed by frantic shouting, the sound of the festival suddenly turning chaotic.

Santiago's heart lurched. Without thinking, he spun around, instinctively stepping toward the source of the commotion. But just as quickly, his eyes flickered back to the group, to the unspoken fractures that had surfaced.

"Stay close," he commanded, his tone snapping into focus, all traces of the earlier tension gone. This wasn't something they could feel their way through. This was real.

The others didn't argue, but Santiago didn't miss the way Bonnie's expression shifted, the way Escarlatta's eyes darted nervously toward the noise in the distance, the way Enrique's smirk vanished into something unreadable.

The air was thick with uncertainty now, with something far darker than any of their internal battles. Something was about to crack wide open, and they weren't ready for it.

~end of chapter 11~