come to brazil: corbyn besson

𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆; 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕.

"How is it in Brazil?" Bea asked with a grin as my phone connected. "Any hot Latino boys?"

"Only one," I said, pursing my lips. "But then again I've only been here for half a day."

"True, true." Bea shrugged.

"How are you holding up?" I asked her. She shrugged again and rubbed her eyes.

"Just tired, I guess." As if on cue, she yawned. "It's hard to get decent sleep when you're in casts."

"Yeah, I figured." I laughed.

"How are things with you and Corbyn?" Bea asked. I sighed, I reckoned she would ask that.

"Uh, they're ok." I finally said. Her face fell, this clearly wasn't the response she'd been expecting.

"What? Has something happened?" Bea questioned.

"Yeah." I looked up at her, "I moved to Brazil." 

"The whole long-distance thing not treating you well, eh?" Bea frowned.

"That, and the fact that we can barely speak starting from next week. Corbyn's going on tour." I sighed. 

"Aw, Ronnie, that sucks." Bea pouted, tilting her head to the side to show how sorry she was for me. It didn't really help. I just buried my head in my hands. "So, what are you gonna do?"

"I might end it." I looked up. Bea looked shocked, her jaw fell open.

"What? No! Why?" She asked. 

"Both abuela and Mateo have said-,"

"Who the hell is Mateo?" Bea raised an eyebrow.

"The hot Spanish boy," I explained.

"What the hell does the hot Spanish boy know about long distance?" Bea asked. 

"He just said- ok, forget him. But abuela also said I should think about my future." I said.

"You don't see Corbyn in your future?" Bea questioned.

"How can I? He lives in America, he belongs in America. Because he's American." I sighed, "I live in Cuba, I belong in Cuba. Because I'm Spanish."

"You shouldn't let culture get in the way of your relationship." Bea pointed out. 

"I don't know, Bea. This is confusing." I buried my head in my hands again. 

"Mariposa! La cena!" Abuela called up to me from downstairs. 

"Sounds like your dinners ready." Bea smirked before frowning, "Think harder about it before you end things, ok?" 

I yawned and nodded.

"Ok."

"I love you, Ronnie." Bea smiled. She had been saying that a lot lately. I wondered why. "Tell abuela I said hello." 

"You mean, hola." I sighed, "Don't need two of us getting a lecture about how we're turning American."

"What?" Bea raised an eyebrow. 

"I'll tell you tomorrow." I smiled, "Love you too, bye." 

"Bye." I ended the call and jogged down the stairs. "Bea says hola." 

"Esa niña." Abuela shook her hand and handed me a bowl of feijoada, which I guess she had learned to make while she lived over here. "Is she ok?"

"She's fine." I shrugged, starting to eat. Abuela sat opposite me, with no bowl in front of her. "Aren't you going to eat, abuela?" 

"I will eat later." She assured, "So, have you considered American boy-," 

"I don't want to talk about it," I muttered, hanging my head slightly. 

"There is a very nice boy, son of the shopkeeper." Abuela carried on talking, ignoring my request. 

"Mateo? I already met him." I shrugged, "You never told me his papá was mamá's old novio."

"I didn't think you needed to know." Abuela shrugged, "You've spoken with Mateo?"

"Yeah, he seems ok," I said. Abuela broke out into a grin.

"He is muy agradable, yes." She nodded, frantically. I ate the rest of my dinner with no further awkward conversation. 

"Gracias." I nodded to abuela as I put my bowl in the sink. Abuela grinned. 

"I'm so glad you're starting to speak more Spanish." She nodded, turning to the dishes and starting to wash them. "See? A day away from American boy and you're remembering who you are."

I didn't know what to say, and I didn't want to argue. I looked down at the ring on my finger and twisted it around. I took a long, shaky breath before starting to head up the stairs. 

"Buenas noches, abuela," I said.

"Buenas noches y dulces sueños, mariposa." Abuela smiled. 

I woke up to the faraway sound of the waves softly crashing onto the beach. Slightly different from waking up to beeping cars, congested traffic and the shouts from people outside. A part of me missed it, though. 

"Mariposa!" Abuela called as I sat up in bed. 

"Sí, abuela?" I shouted back. I checked the time, it read 9:59 am. Damn, all the stress had really let me sleep in. It's the least it could do.

"Mateo is here!" I froze. What was he doing here? 

"Uh... just a second, abuela!" I half-shouted, pulling on Corbyn's hoodie from the side of my bed. It was still tinged with his scent and I breathed it in. I took my hair out of its messy bun and put a brush through it.

Then, I looked in the mirror to check if I looked somewhat prestable, before heading downstairs. 

Abuela was chatting to Mateo, who grinned when he saw me. He looked handsome in his white short-sleeved shirt and his blue shorts. 

"Buenos días, Verónica." Mateo nodded at me. 

"Oh, please. Don't be silly, call her Ronnie." Abuela said, like it was her decision. She didn't even call me Ronnie. Only Bea, my parents and Corbyn did. I swallowed the lump in my throat. 

Mateo turned to me, his hands folded over each other.

"Can I?" He asked. I couldn't just say no after it was suggested and he had asked, so I just shrugged.

"Sure," I said. Mateo smiled at me again.

"I just came over to ask if you wanted a tour of Rio. Or, as much as I can show you." Mateo asked. Abuela looked at me and raised her eyebrows.

"Um... ok. Yeah." I nodded, "Just give me like five minutes to get ready." 

I ran upstairs to put on some different clothes that were the first ones I saw in my suitcase. I still needed to unpack. I quickly messaged Corbyn saying I wouldn't be able to talk until later, and he said he couldn't either.

I sighed and turned my phone off. Before going downstairs to join Mateo. 

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆.
 "𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 (𝑶𝒐𝒉)
𝑺𝒂𝒘 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒏 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓 (𝑶𝒐𝒉)"