Lost Then Found - Lutteo

Bonus: Without you

This plays shortly after Matteo left Argentina, and was written before I started working on this fic but it's included in the fic's canon so I thought it would be rude to keep it from you.

„You might have left, but you're stuck in my mind playing in my head almost every night. I wasn't prepared for our last goodbye."  Alex G - "Muriel" 

The minute Matteo left, he took the sun with him. Darkness crept in where he used to be and Luna's world, once bursting with colors, turned into variations of black and white. Sleep slipped out of her hand until she woke up with shadows from her nightmares lingering over her.

Every night, Matteo came into view. He stood behind a wall she couldn't break through, never looking at her, never saying a single word. But that wasn't the worst part, or what haunted her at daytime. It was watching him fade like an old photograph with each day that went by without a text, a call or another sign of life. Until she suddenly was alone, and no matter how many times she cried out his name, he didn't return. Sleeping got even harder then.

On the first day of school, Gastón and her looked for him. But he never appeared, neither that day nor the next. Within a week, everyone else gave up. Still, Luna couldn't help it. Their story wasn't over – or that's what she wanted to believe so badly that she ignored the proof. In her mind, there were so many chapters more to come. Just seeing an airplane was enough to remind her of what could have been. She wanted to hop on board and follow him all the way to Italy. If only she knew where he was, or if he thought about her at all. According to her phone, he didn't, which got harder to deny each day.

Of course, Luna's friends started worrying about her. Their looks rested longer on her than usual. Hugs got tighter. Eventually, she started smiling again only to reassure them. Likewise, she learned to go on with her life, to listen in class again. Focusing at work became easier, along with pretending she finally slept through the nights.

Skating remained the only thing she kept struggling with. Luna figured out how to keep Matteo off her mind, yet it didn't feel right. The effortlessness, the unlimited happiness flooding her veins was gone now. There was no one who spontaneously pulled her along to dance, to whirl her around until she smiled so much her cheeks hurt. Luna missed him so much. Every piece of him – even the ones who made her call him chico fresa in the first place. One day, it struck her with no warning.

"I'll explain the homework to you when I'm home, okay? I don't want to keep Gastón waiting", Nina explained to her on the way out of the classroom. Luna nodded: "Thanks. And I hope you have fun on your date." Her best friend blushed, while nervously playing with her hair. "I hope he put on that new perfume. It smells so good... do you think I could steal one of his hoodies?"

There it was, the sudden realization, a dagger in her heart and a stinging pain. Barely holding up, she asked, "He wears hoodies?", hoping Nina wouldn't notice the raspy tone of her voice. Luckily, she didn't. "Oh yes, he does. And of course, he looks good in them. Can you imagine that, looking good in everything?"

The rest of their conversation happened in a daze. When their ways parted, Luna immediately walked home. All the fresh air failed to clear her head, but it allowed her to avoid everyone. Screw meeting her friends on the rink. Right now, she craved to be alone.

When she reached the Benson mansion, her feet lead her directly to her bed. Nina's words had shaken her deep to the core. His perfume. They made her realize she couldn't remember how Matteo's perfume smelled like. Or what his smile exactly looked like, and the comfort he provided by hugging her. Memories vanished more and more by the minute and there wasn't a thing she could do about it.

The same day, she cried for the first time in weeks. Her walls broke down as she repeatedly whispered his name. When her voice failed, it still played inside her head, Matteo, Matteo, Matteo. Later, her parents found her, with even more tears rolling down her face.

After that, Luna couldn't imagine it getting any worse. So, she tried to piece herself back together. Helping Tamara with the first Open since school started distracted her, and it gave her an excuse to not prepare a song. Mostly that meant working on a live-stream for the night. After the Rollerband's concert, they gained more fans than fitted into the Jam&Roller, so Pedro suggested to provide a live-stream. Naturally, Tamara loved the idea which meant Luna spent the whole evening running around with Jazmin's tablet, filming everything and everyone. Not even the thoughts of Matteo, which stuck to her like her second shadow, stopped her from enjoying the moment.

Next afternoon, just as she reached her locker, Simón ran towards her, with a smile too big for his face. "Luna! I've been waiting for you for hours now! You have to check this out!", he declared and pulled her along. He stopped in front of his laptop. "Look at it! Do you see it?"

She needed a minute to figure out what he was talking about. There was a graph on the screen, and a table, but first, that was all she saw. Apparently, Tamara wanted to know how many people had used the stream. She still didn't understand why Simón made such a fuss about it, though. "Over there, Luna", he tapped on the screen, impatiently. That's when she discovered it.

Clicks from Italy, Europe: 1.

Her heart stopped. "Is that...", Luna asked without being able to finish. Too many emotions, too many thoughts, too many questions. Joy, confusion, sadness – it all blended into a single mess. Was it really Matteo? Had he been watching, hoping to see her? Why hadn't she prepared a song?

"Yes!", her best friend pulled her back to reality, "I think he watched! You have to sing next time!"

That's what she did. With Gastón's help, she practiced, hour after hour, until the result felt good enough. One month later, she went on stage, hoping he saw her, hoping he noticed how she poured all her feelings, all her love, into Siento.

But no matter how many times she refreshed the page full of statistics the next couple of days, there wasn't a viewer from Italy, Europe. That's when she stopped looking at the sky, and started to hate airplanes, even though she accepted nothing would bring him back.