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IRL!
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↳ ❝WOULD IT EVEN
MAKE A
DIFFERENCE
IF I TOLD HER NOW?❞

Watching someone you love choose happiness with someone else is a particular kind of agony. It's a searing pain that Mateo could never have anticipated, one he wouldn't wish upon his worst enemy. Fate's cruel hand had dealt him an unwelcome card — the card of unfortunate timing.

Every glimmer of an opportunity he believed he might seize with Lovette was snatched away by the universe's uncanny ability to complicate matters. A preexisting boyfriend, a lingering ex, and the grim shadow of the accident that stole her parents. Mateo's chances, it seemed, were relentlessly ruined by the universe's capricious clockwork.

Yet, amid this incessant turmoil, Mateo had clung to a flicker of hope. The hope that, somehow, the stars would align and favour him. A hope that persisted despite the odds.

Then, like an unforeseen twist of irony, Lovette crossed paths with Chris. It seemed like the universe conspired to usher Chris into Lovette's world. A part of Mateo, a part he hated to admit, wished for their relationship to falter, for fate to recalibrate its balance. It was rooted in his own history with Lovette, in the emotions he had felt for her long before Chris entered the scene. He had loved her long before anyone else, and it was a love that remained unacknowledged, unreciprocated. Selfish though it may be, he longed for a chance, the moment he could point to and claim, "I was here first, I cared first."

But, instead, Mateo grappled with the cruel irony of being the spectator of his own love.

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Mateo's introduction to Lovette took place during his ninth-grade year, a time of transition and change. Freshly transplanted from Nevada to California, he found himself navigating the intricate social labyrinth of a new school, Harvard-Westlake. A dedicated figure skater since the tender age of six, Mateo had honed his skills on the ice over the years. And now, in a school as sprawling as this one, the allure of a figure skating club caught his attention, promising the joy of pursuing his passion within these unfamiliar walls.

His eyes lingered on the captivating black and white poster, where the silhouette of an ice skater seemed to embody the grace and elegance of the sport. The words detailing the club's involvement in competitions and showcases throughout the year beckoned him further. The time of the club's inaugural meeting was etched into his mind, a promise of exploration and potential friendships.

Minutes before the meeting's commencement, Mateo found himself at the ice rink, a place that felt like both a sanctuary and a realm of uncertainty. He arrived without skates, his curiosity and anticipation intermingling.

Then, from the corner of his perception, a soft voice brushed against his senses. A simple "Hey" wove through the air, leaving him unsure if it was directed at him. Regardless, he turned toward the source of the voice, and his gaze met hers.

There she stood, a girl whose mere presence seemed to radiate warmth and kindness. Lovette's smile, genuine and inviting, cast a certain charm that Mateo couldn't ignore. Admittedly, he couldn't deny her beauty—her brown eyes held a depth of authenticity and nonjudgmental understanding.

His status as a newcomer to the school was evident, a fact that the girl acknowledged with a simple observation. "You're new," she stated, her tone more declarative than inquisitive.

Drawn to her aura, he found himself taking a few steps closer, compelled by her friendly demeanour. The exchange was casual yet charged with a subtle undercurrent of curiosity. "How can you tell?" he responded, a trace of self-consciousness tinging his words.

Her head tilted, a subtle gesture that mirrored her inquisitiveness. "Never seen you before, is all."

Under her gaze, he felt a sudden twist of nerves and excitement. The urge to connect pushed him forward, encouraging him to reveal a part of himself that was usually reserved. "I'm Mateo," he introduced, the words carrying a hint of vulnerability.

In response, the girl's smile deepened, her hands finding their refuge in her pockets. The timbre of her voice held an inviting softness as she offered her own introduction. "I'm Lovette."

He's liked her ever since.

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They were a remarkable pair, their partnership born from an unexpected union orchestrated by their coach. Mateo and Lovette had known each other in passing, but it wasn't until one fateful meeting that the coach decided to pair them up.

"The chemistry is palpable," the coach had remarked, a glint of excitement in their eyes. "I haven't seen anything like it in a while."

Mateo couldn't help the flutter in his chest at the recognition, knowing that their chemistry on the ice was special, different from anything he had experienced before. As they embarked on their journey together, they swiftly rose to prominence in interschool competitions. Their partnership flowed seamlessly. Trusting each other during lifts became second nature, and the intensity of their choreography soared with each competition, intensifying over the years.

But it was the last competition of their senior year, mere weeks before the accident that would forever change Lovette's life, where something shifted. Their routine was emotionally charged, as it marked their final performance together. It featured a lift they had been perfecting for weeks, one that required not just physical precision but emotional connection.

As they concluded their routine, emotions surged within Mateo. As he tightly embraced Lovette, the applause from the audience ringing in his ears, he knew one thing with unwavering certainty: he needed to tell her how he felt.

Throughout the award ceremony, Mateo had been building up his courage. The first-place medals that hung around their necks seemed to solidify that this was the right moment. His heart raced as he found a moment alone with Lovette, determined to express his feelings.

His lips parted to speak, but before he could utter a word, Lovette began, her voice warm and affectionate. "I'm happy we can just be friends without that other stuff getting in the way."

The words struck him like a blow, a sudden and unexpected shock to his confidence. He understood exactly what she meant by "other stuff." Being figure skating partners often blurred lines, and feelings were known to surface. It was a sweet sentiment until the relationship soured, causing the entire dynamic to crumble. Their routines would be marred by tension of the wrong kind, eventually leading to a split. The history they shared transformed into a hindrance, making their professional collaboration untenable.

That was the "other stuff" she was referring to.

In that moment, Mateo summoned a smile, concealing his true feelings behind a mask he had worn for four long years. "Yeah, me too," he replied, his words a façade to protect the truth he had buried deep within himself.

And that day, he made a silent promise, swearing to himself that no one could ever discover the depth of his emotions for Lovette.

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The promise was broken a mere two months later, on the night of their graduation party. In the dimly lit room filled with laughter and celebration, Mateo found himself a little more intoxicated than he would ever care to admit. Lovette's arrival had acted like a catalyst, stripping away his carefully maintained self-control. Unable to contain his emotions, he impulsively confided in the person beside him, then hastily retreated, leaving behind a bewildered companion.

He couldn't recall much of the night after that, just a hazy recollection marked by a pounding headache and the oppressive weight of too much alcohol. He certainly hadn't anticipated the unannounced visit from Layla the following day. He had met Layla through Lovette, and despite her reputation, she was genuinely sweet, just with a unique way of expressing it.

"I know," Layla stated matter-of-factly.

Mateo arched an eyebrow, genuinely confused. "Know what?"

"That you're in love with Lovette," Layla responded with an air of nonchalance, as if stating the weather forecast.

His mouth went dry, his heart raced, and his palms grew clammy.

In a feeble attempt to conceal his emotions, he cleared his throat. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Layla burst into laughter. "Cut the shit, Mateo. You told me last night. You were absolutely smashed, but you told me. You really can't hold your liquor by the way. Had to drive you home myself."

His grand plan of eluding exposure had crumbled before his eyes, replaced by an overwhelming sense of panic. His silence hung heavily in the air, the unspoken words louder than any confession. He couldn't be sure if Layla had revealed his secret to Lovette, although he doubted she was the type to betray his trust in such a manner.

"I didn't tell her," Layla reassured him, her words granting him a momentary respite from the whirlwind of anxiety. But it was short-lived, for Layla continued, her tone now more serious.

"But I think you should. You're the best match for her, honestly. Your connection is different from what she has with the other guys. I'm rooting for you two."

As much as her words filled him with validation, Mateo couldn't shake the memory of Lovette's words at that last competition, the ones that had left a bitter taste on his tongue.

"I can't," he whispered, his voice heavy with resignation. "It's pointless, Layla."

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Mateo's heart ached as he watched Chris effortlessly bring smiles and laughter to Lovette's face. He had been wearing that fake smile for far too long, pretending that Chris's arrival didn't bother him. He refused to be the one to disrupt Lovette's happiness, so he played the role of the polite friend, hiding his emotions behind a carefully crafted mask. But as he witnessed Lovette gazing at Chris with a look that could rival the stars, while his own attention drifted elsewhere, his patience reached its limits and he escaped to the kitchen, Layla following behind him.

Layla sidled up beside him in the kitchen, her voice a whisper laced with concern, "You look like you're about to explode, Mateo."

He shot her a quick, sidelong glance, his eyes fraught with the emotional turmoil he couldn't express. "I'm fine," he managed to mumble, though the tightness in his jaw revealed the truth.

"Bullshit," she retorted, her voice firm, "You can't keep bottling this up. It's tearing you apart."

Mateo turned to her, frustration boiling over. "What do you want me to do, Layla? Huh? Tell her that I've been in love with her since ninth grade?"

Layla's eyes bore into his, a mix of sympathy and exasperation. "Mateo, it's never too late for the truth. Holding it in like this is eating you alive."

"I don't understand what she sees in him," Layla remarked.

Mateo sighed, his voice tinged with frustration. "He's a nice guy, funny, and not bad looking."

Layla's support was appreciated, but it didn't ease the turmoil within him. What made matters worse was that Chris seemed genuinely well-suited for Lovette. He possessed a calm demeanour that balanced Lovette's occasional high-maintenance tendencies.

Layla's tone softened as she offered a suggestion. "You should do something! Tell her how you feel."

Mateo responded rhetorically, "Would it even make a difference if I told her now? She has a boyfriend, and, for the first time in a while, she looks happy."

The accident had profoundly altered Lovette, leaving her more guarded and skeptical about life's unpredictability. In truth, Mateo simply wanted Layla to drop the subject and let him deal with his emotions in his own way.

Frustration laced Layla's voice as she persisted, "You're giving up."

Before Mateo could respond, Chris walked into the room, and for once, Mateo was relieved to see him. Anything to divert Layla's attention. He greeted Chris and then received an unexpected call from his mother.

"Hi, Mom," he answered, stepping out of the kitchen. He hoped that Layla and Chris could have a moment alone without brewing any tension, "how are you? How's everything back home?"

As his mother talked about mundane things, Mateo tried to focus on her words, anything to drown out the turmoil in his mind. He rubbed his temples, attempting to regain his composure.

His mother's voice grew softer, more comforting. "Mateo, is everything alright? You sound troubled."

A lump formed in his throat, and he couldn't help but open up to his mother, his voice quivering as he confessed, "She has a boyfriend now."

There was a pause on the other end, then his mother's voice filled with empathy. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry you're going through this."

Mateo's eyes stung with tears, but he held them back, his voice shaky as he continued, "I just wish I had told her sooner, before all of this happened."

He sensed his mother's empathy, knowing that she had hoped for a romantic connection between him and Lovette. "It's better to have loved and lost, Mateo," she offered words of comfort.

But what she didn't prepare him for was the pain of loving in silence.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

hi!

sooo what are we thinking about layla and mateo so far?

until next time <3!