Summary:
ACT I: BRUNO
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The day breaks in a city of seven million people. A young man named Bruno Madrigal begins another day, like all the other dreamers who left their hometowns to take a chance of a lifetime.
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The theme song for this chapter: Tacones Rojos by Sebastián Yatra
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Time waited for no one. Before anyone could notice it, the moment had gone. Only the brave dare to wake.
The bright sunlight shone through his window and he put one foot out the door.
In the middle of everything else, past the tall mountains, lay a city of endless possibilities. A place where the past is remembered, the present is lived, and the future is gained.
Bogotá.
To take a chance required taking a great leap of faith. Here, anything could happen. This was where dreams were made.
The noise of the city buzzed around the music in his ears as he joined the crowd. He should've woken up earlier if he knew today was going to be like this, cramped and unforgiving. Through the ungodly rush hour, he stood there in thought, waiting for the next train to arrive. The next line of the song he's listening to drone on as people hurry around him.
It was just another day, but like always, a new day to try.
Everything seemed mundane to the naked eye, but there were some things most don't see. The night, though so far away, held another kind of promise, one that would come to life because of fate. Two people, finding their way into each other's arms. Forbidden, but not quite. Wrong, but also, right.
Entangled in an embrace, making love all day.
But this was just the beginning of his story.
Soft jazz music played in the background as the bell at a small shop rang and caught someone's attention.
"Finally, Bruno, you showed up!" A woman managing the counter called out. Her hands were on her hips, the frown lines on her face a little visible against her fair skin. "You're late."
"Sorry, I missed the earlier train." Bruno flushed. He took off his earbuds and quickly rushed over to take his place behind the counter. The older woman clicked her tongue at him while he put on his apron. "You should've called, you know." She chastised. "Your regulars have been waiting for you for a good thirty minutes."
Bruno lightheartedly chuckled. "Well, I guess I shouldn't keep them waiting any longer, do I?"
He rolled up his sleeves and pulled his hair up in a messy bun. His hands moved in a swift and sure motion. The scent in the air brought back memories as Bruno began to work his magic. The light, nutty smell that wafted throughout when he ground the special blend he invented made him think of home.
Coffee had always been in his blood. He never told anyone, but he grew up drinking the good stuff. He could always discern a good cup from a poorly made one.
A whistle of admiration from behind him broke his concentration and he almost spilled the beans.
His boss sighed defeatedly. Not again. "Please don't try to flirt with our barista, señorita," She exhaled. She turned her head toward Bruno who fumbled with the machine while he tried to regain his senses. "What are you doing just standing there, Bruno? Coffee? Now? Please?"
"Lo siento, Cecilia. Quiero decir, jefe. Already on it."
Bruno shrugged. He was never going to get used to all the staring and flirting. A stray curl escaped his bun, focusing on distracting himself with the coffee instead. His green eyes twinkled while he carefully watched the brew. Despite being the heir to a multimillion coffee empire, Bruno felt more fulfilled working behind the counter.
No one knew this about him, though, and he preferred to keep it that way.
"Here you go, one special blend," Bruno smiled, handing the completed drink over to the customer with a flourish. She melted under his gaze and nervously tucked her hair behind her ear.
"Do you have a girlfriend…?" She began, before the noise of the cash register cut her off.
"Again, please don't flirt with our barista," Cecilia raised an eyebrow. "Thanks for your order. That'll be COL$5000."
The flustered customer squeaked under Cecilia's judging stare. She mumbled an apology and quickly paid for her coffee.
"You're in a particularly terrible mood, Cecilia," Bruno mused when the customer was out of earshot, his body vibrating from holding back a laugh. A snort came out instead and Cecilia shot him a mean look.
"This happens whenever it's your day," Cecilia muttered in between checking the register. "Plenty more customers, but I have to shoo away everyone who's loitering around. Ay, I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse having you here. Look at you. Why are you always dressed like a model in a magazine? It's a miracle you don't get any coffee stains on your fancy clothes with how clumsy you are. You're too good-looking for your own good, Bruno."
Bruno's cheeks turned red at the compliment. Cecilia reminded him of his older sisters, a woman whose moodiness matched that of Pepa's and scolded him with a mothering nature like Julieta's. Maybe it was the reason why he could easily get along with her, despite Cecilia being his boss, and ten years older than he was.
"These aren't fancy. I'm just wearing a sweater! And I don't know why I look the way I am, why don't you ask my dad?" Bruno teased, turning back to the espresso machine. "And don't let your esposo hear that. I don't need a jealous husband coming after me."
Cecilia rolled her eyes at Bruno's comment and swatted him away. "Ha! As if I'll see you that way. Mi esposo may not be a handsome man, but that's the way I like it. No competition. You're like a younger brother to me, Bruno. An annoying one. And, also, don't forget, I'm your boss."
"Yeah, yeah."
The soft chatter around him set the tone for the rest of his day. It had been a year since Bruno first moved to Bogotá. It was never an easy journey, but what was life without a little adventure? He held hope for the future, and he was just glad to have people like Cecilia willing to give him a chance.
The hustle and bustle continued in a city of seven million people. Back home in Encanto, he was a king, but out here? Bruno was just one of the many dreamers, and like the rest of them, looking for their destiny.
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Glossary of terms (in order of appearance in-text):
Quiero decir, jefe - I mean, boss