come to brazil: corbyn besson

𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒛; 𝒎𝒆𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕.

Mateo was tall, with olive skin and cut and shaggy brown hair. His eyes were a dark brown and he had a strong jawline. He was beautiful. 

I frowned. This was the sort of boy Abuela wanted me to be with. A Latino. 

"So... the shop?" I prompted when he still hadn't given me the directions.

"I was just going there, it's my papá's shop," Mateo explained, starting to walk the right way. I followed him. "So, are you here to stay?" 

"No. I'm probably going back to Cuba in a year, to see my parents," I explained. 

"Oh," Mateo said. 

"What about you? Have you lived here all your life?" I asked, putting my hands in my pockets.

"Yeah. Born and raised." Mateo nodded. 

We arrived at the small corner shop, which actually had a lot in it. 

"Mateo!" An older man from behind the counter said, "Quien es este?"

"Hey, papá." Mateo smiled, "This is Verónica."

"Hi." I waved my hand, limply. Mateo's papá raised an eyebrow. 

"You sound American." I fought the urge to roll my eyes, I had been told this three times in the space of half an hour. How was I going to live here if people were going to constantly remind me of my accent? I would grow out of it, though, I was sure.

"Verónica spent a year in America," Mateo explained, sensing the fact I was getting slightly annoyed. 

"But you are española?" Mateo's papá asked.

"Sí." It was weird speaking in Spanish again, but I would have to get used to it. Mateo smiled at me. "My abuela just asked me to get some fruit."

"Ah, you are the nieta of Matilde De Leon, hija of Anita De Leon?" Mateo's papá asked. 

"Yeah." I nodded, "How did you know?"

"Your abuela only gets fruit from my shop, or so she claims." Mateo's papá laughed, "Not to mention, you are every bit of your mother. I knew your mother after she moved from Havana to here. Only for a few years, but I knew her well." 

I just smiled at that, not knowing what to say or do. Then, Mateo, knowing I needed saving again, suggested,

"Should I show you where the fruit is?" 

"Uhm, yeah, thank you." I nodded, letting him lead me to the back of the shop.

"I didn't know you were a De Leon," Mateo said to me as he handed me a basket to put the fruit in.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Our parents used to date. My papá and your mamá, before she moved away." Mateo smiled, "Apparently they were really good together, but she had to move." He sighed, "But they both moved on, as one should." That one stung, he didn't know anything about me and Corbyn, but it still hurt. Then, as if  on cue, he asked, "Do you have a boyfriend?" 

"Yeah, back in LA." I nodded. Mateo's face turned to panic, worried he might have offended me by his previous statement. "Do you have a girlfriend?" 

"No." He shook his head. I tried not to look too shocked. How? He was nice, handsome, what's not to like? 

"Oh." Was all I managed to say. I turned my attention back to picking out the fruit. 

"So, you, and this LA boy." Mateo started to say. I sighed, could we talk about anything else? 

"Yeah?" I said, as politely as I could. 

"Do you keep in touch?"

"Yeah." I nodded, "Yeah, we do."

"Isn't it hard?" Mateo asked, "I mean, he's miles and miles away." Like I didn't know that. 

"It's ok." I shrugged.

"Really?" Mateo asked, "I don't think I'd know what to do if my girlfriend lived that far away." I stopped with the fruit, and turned to him, my expression desperate.

"What would you do?" I asked, "I need advice." 

"Give me a situation. Preferably yours." Mateo smirked.

"Ok. I've known him for about a week." I lied, making it seem a bit better than a couple of days. "I moved here, he needs to stay in LA because of his job." I took a deep breath, "And our communication is limited because he's on tour."

Mateo looked at me for a long time, I knew what he was going to say. 

"Well, I mean, if are were you..." Mateo muttered, "I'd end it." I sighed. "Only because, you've known each other for not that long, and you're trying to keep up a long distance relationship with limited communication." 

"I guess that's a valid point." I murmured, gritting my teeth. 

"But, hey, it's your life. Do you what you want. Don't base your decisions off my opinion." Mateo shrugged. I frowned, that might be exactly what I needed to do. "So, what fruit do you want?" 

I got back home and told abuela about Mateo, and smiled and nodded like she approved. Because why wouldn't she? Mateo was the exact type of boy she wanted me to be with. Then, I went to my room, not bothering to unpack, and facetimed Corbyn. 

"Hey." He smiled as it connected. It felt like I hadn't seen his face in months, I'd almost forgotten how attractive he was.

"Hi." I managed to smile back.

"How's Brazil?" Corbyn asked.

"Great, from what I've seen so far." I shrugged, "What are you doing back in LA?"

"Just preparing for the tour, and missing you, of course." Corbyn tried laughing but his smiled faded, "Today's been unbearable. How am I gonna cope for the rest of the year?" I had an idea about it. I bit my lip.

"I don't know." I said, "I miss you too." Then, a facetime call from Bea came in. Saved by the bell. I didn't know what to say to Corbyn when I knew what I was thinking about doing. "Bea's calling. Is it ok if I go? Who knows when she'll be able to call me again?"

"Oh... ok. Sure." Corbyn nodded, "I'll call you in the morning, yeah?" 

"Yeah, ok." I said.

"I love you, so much." Corbyn grinned. I smiled weakly back and muttered,

"I love you too." 

 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆.
"𝑺𝒉𝒆 '𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒖𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒎𝒑 𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕
𝑶𝒏𝒆-𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒕, 𝒂𝒊𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆, 𝒐𝒐𝒉"