Chapter 21: Fight

Saturday passed without major complications. During that time, Emilia and María realized they hadn't even started working on the music project they had to present in about a month and a half.

Instead, they had spent their time lazing around the house, playing board games or watching movies.

Basically, it's because on the days we had relatively free afternoons —Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays (even weekends like this one)—Emilia would stay at our house as if it were her own.

When I asked if they were finally going to start working, they sent me to my room, saying that I wasn't doing anything either and had no right to complain.

They had a point.

Anyway, Monday had arrived, and I assumed classes would continue as usual.

No, that was a lie.

Because when I arrived at the classroom with the two of them, the atmosphere was tense. It was supposed to be math class, but a crowd of curious students had gathered by the classroom door.

A fight? An accident?

I pushed through the students and peeked inside—when I saw what was happening, I knew I was right.

It was the "wonder duo": Ana Abantino and Alex Nowak, standing face to face, showing no interest in the people around them watching with eager eyes.

Some seemed genuinely concerned about the controversy, while others were just pretending—deep down, I was sure they were enjoying it.

Personally, I wasn't either. I didn't care, in the sense that it didn't affect my daily life at all, but it was still striking. A small altercation like this wasn't common on such ordinary days.

Still, I refuse to take pleasure in other people's misfortunes.

Silently, the three of us moved around the perimeter and sat in our respective seats, which were reasonably far from the conflict. But voices know no barriers, and since we were in the same physical space, we had to pretend ignorance.

"Are you serious?" The first to speak was that guy, Alex Nowak.

After both had remained silent (or at least since we entered the classroom), he seemed to take the initiative to resume the argument.

"So you're not going to sing my songs anymore?"

"It's not like that…" Abantino looked dismayed, her head slightly lowered. She was clearly trying to appear strong, as if the situation didn't affect her, but her attempt was failing.

"Then what is it?"

But in an instant, she seemed to regain her confidence and went back to acting arrogant, in an almost artificial transition.

"Well, they told me, and I agree. Anything you come up with is low-tier and doesn't deserve my talent."

"What? But you said you liked it!"

"I was lying. I didn't want to hurt you, but I realize that if I'm not honest, I'll end up hurting both of us."

"No, you know that's not true… You know what? Forget it. You disgust me. You're not even true to yourself. I'm done being your servant or whatever. Go find yourself a fourth-rate composer."

"Fine. I'm glad you understand. Maybe when you grow up, you'll realize I'm doing this for the sake of both our careers. After all, you've gotten used to composing boring tracks, and the only thing that makes them stand out is my voice. I even have to tweak them because they don't match the essence I want to convey."

"Go to hell."

Nowak wasn't intimidated by Abantino's speech. He didn't let her belittle him either. He was furious—I thought he might grab a folder and throw it at me.

For the folder's sake and mine, he seemed to decide against doing anything reckless. Grumbling, he pushed through the students, who automatically dispersed the moment the conversation ended.

Nowak stormed out of the classroom, his face still serious—a poker face hiding his disgust at his former partner's attitude.

"Wow, that was intense."

"You never learn to keep your mouth shut, do you, Emilia?" I elbowed her and urged her to speak quieter. Abantino was still in the classroom, and hearing Emilia's words, she turned her gaze toward us for a moment.

Given Emilia's comment, it would make sense if Abantino's malice were directed at her, but she was looking at me.

Seems like the incident at Henry's bar was still fresh in her memory. None of you know what I'm talking about, maybe I'll tell you another time.

Though I wouldn't give it that much importance.

The moment our eyes met, it was like a psychic battle. She didn't seem interested in talking to anyone, so she gave up the fight.

She ignored us and left the classroom, while a group of her admirers followed her. They were probably going to tell her she was right and that Nowak was just an idiot who's only popular because of his looks.

I disagree with that.

Though I've only spoken to that guy once, from his YouTube channel and the song they produced together in the past, I can say he's not a bad composer.

It was a synthetic melody with digital instruments, but it was beautifully arranged—so well-planned that it harmonized perfectly with Abantino's voice in every note.

But the melody was the least of it. The lyrics, and consequently his entire lyrical skill, were admirable.

It was an indie song called "Sample."

There was no music video—just a static image of the city, taken from some very, very tall building.

It was a pop-opera with rock and electronic music influences —maybe too many. Of course, it wasn't on the level of the nameless song we'd heard on that forgotten cassette over the weekend.

Still, I think it's very good. It's even one of my favorites from the past year.

The lyrics were about "two people who meet at the wrong time." I think it's a love song, but I'm not sure.

So were Nowak and Abantino lovers or something?

Maybe I'm overthinking it.

The vibe I get from the lyrics feels like a love story. But the way Abantino sings it is different—it doesn't give me the vibe of a girl in love, I had no doubt about that.

Whatever it was, it wasn't my business.

Back to the song—it's masterfully performed by Abantino, a mezzo-soprano. She had a dark but smooth timbre. It wasn't the kind of voice that sought to impress, but to resolve.

It was strange, but my limited vocabulary was all I had to describe it.

"Thanks for ruining my chances with Abantino. How am I supposed to befriend her now that she hates you? She'll think I'm a nuisance with my friendships or that I'm just as much of a jerk as you."

"Are you hearing yourself?"

"Yeah, it's all your fault, bro." My sister seemed to be on that woman's side now.

Minutes passed, and the bell rang, signaling the start of class. Seconds later, the teacher walked in, and as she settled in to begin the day, the former "dynamic duo" (now estranged) entered the classroom. They were still fighting, keeping a safe distance from each other, even avoiding eye contact.

Despite the morning's argument, those feelings were fleeting. As soon as class started, the hatred dissipated, and everyone focused on the teacher's lecture.

***

When classes ended, everything returned to its natural course.

Ana Abantino left the classroom with her group of admirers. But something was slightly different.

This time, Alex Nowak stayed behind. He looked a little uncomfortable—maybe because what was once routine for him no longer was.

Normally, we were the ones who stayed in the classroom for a while after class. It was almost a tradition we'd been forming little by little.

But it wasn't common for a student with as busy a life as Nowak to do the same.

"So, how about we make something Spanish today? Hmm, paella? How about that? I tried it when I was in Spain, and it was my favorite dish."

Paella? I'd had it before, and I'm not lying when I say it's delicious. Not that I'd left the country or gone to a Spanish restaurant.

The thing is, Lucielle had once given me a sample of that dish from one of her classes.

Speaking of her, I hadn't had any contact with her since that day over a week ago. Apparently, though she didn't show it, she was really angry.

That idea was reinforced when I remembered she hadn't even brought Fido the dog, let alone any leftover food. She hadn't even met Emilia.

It was like we'd disappeared from her life.

That's a little sad, but I guess I'm used to it.

"Why don't you focus your efforts on studying for the exam instead?" I sighed—because our survival depended on it.

"Do you expect us to use all our brainpower on an empty stomach? Everything in due time, Lucas."

"I won't let you use my kitchen if you don't commit."

"Fine, no problem. Mary and I will go to my apartment and cook there. Meanwhile, you can starve."

"If you keep thinking with your stomach, you'll get fat."

That comment seemed to hurt her more than a direct punch to the liver.

"That's why you don't have a girlfriend… He doesn't have a girlfriend, right, Mary?"

Maria blinked twice at the question. I'm sure if my sister were normal and didn't have that distant, robot-like attitude, she'd be laughing her head off at that remark.

"I don't think so. I've never seen him talk to any girl other than Lucy."

"Huh? Lucy? Wait, you have a girlfriend? Seriously, you?"

"She's not my girlfriend. She's just a friend who helped us out sometimes. Besides, I don't have time for that—I have to take care of this useless one."

"Hah, that's suspicious. You don't think he's hiding a relationship, do you, Mary?"

"I doubt it. My brother's a total virgin."

"Hey, shut up. I didn't raise you like this."

I don't know if this counts as a pleasant time. If it does, then I guess this is what "hanging out after school" looks like.

"Still, I'm surprised Mary sings so well when she's motivated." She discreetly pointed at her phone.

On it was an abandoned music channel: VILCA, the music project she and I had.

In the early days, when Emilia was still skeptical of my sister, I made her listen to what she'd produced on her independent channel. Needless to say, she was pleasantly amazed—maybe even a little in love with her voice.

In contrast, that's all I could show her. My sister hasn't sung "seriously" in months—not even for Emilia, though she begged her to. Trying to make her do something against her will is counterproductive—this genius I share blood with does what she wants, when she wants.

"If it weren't for Abantino, I think you'd be the most talented in the whole class."

When Emilia said those words, she seemed to forget we weren't exactly alone at that moment. Besides us, there was one more person in the classroom.

Apparently, implying that someone is better than Ana Abantino is taboo. Everyone is afraid of her, but the person who approached us wasn't there to defend Abantino—he was there to challenge her.

Alex Nowak walked up to us with determined steps.

"You think you can surpass Ana?"

He was direct. The question was aimed at my sister, Maria.

"Me? I don't know about surpassing her, but my voice is definitely prettier." Just as direct, but contradictory.

"What? That doesn't make sense."

"I'm just saying what I think."

He seemed a little irritated. Worried he might do something impulsive, I stepped between them. I was taller, so he backed off.

"Okay, let's calm down. I know you're upset about what happened with your friend, but this isn't the way to treat people."

"No… Yeah, okay. You're right. Sorry. I overreacted."

He seemed reasonable.

Secretly, I kind of admired him, so it would've hurt me more than him if I'd had to hit him to calm him down.

"Look, Ana and I were supposed to do the exam together, but now that she's ditched me, I don't know what to do. What if she's right? What if what I make isn't good enough?"

He seemed doubtful—he didn't have the same attitude he'd had when facing Abantino earlier. Before, his expression was serious, but now he was showing what he really felt.

He was afraid she might be right.

Isn't this guy supposed to be popular? Doesn't he have other people to share his insecurities with?

"You know, Nowak, I think you'd be better off talking about this with someone else."

"Eh?... Oh, you're right. Sorry for bothering you guys. No hard feelings."

He was about to turn around and go our separate ways again.

Poor guy was left without a partner for the exam—though, for someone like Nowak, with his looks and talent, I doubt he'll have trouble finding another team.

But more importantly than a team, he'd lost a friend he cared about.

The moment he walked away, I doubted we'd have another excuse to talk.

But I was dead wrong.

At that moment, Emilia's phone slipped from her hands. It fell onto her lap, bounced, and then hit the floor.

The phone landed near Nowak's foot, and he picked it up to return it.

"Don't worry, here—"

But it was impossible not to glance at the screen for at least a second. It's human nature to peek where we shouldn't.

"What?... VILCA?"

At that moment, our worlds connected—for the first time, and forever.