The Diaz household was always peaceful in the morning. Not because of luck, but because Marco made sure of it.
The sound of bacon sizzling on the pan, the scent of fresh coffee—this was how mornings should be. Marco stood by the stove, flipping pancakes with practiced ease, dressed neatly in his signature red hoodie. His father, Rafael, sat at the kitchen table, humming softly as he read the morning news on his tablet. His mother, Angie, was tidying her clothes, ready for another day at work.
"Breakfast is ready," Marco announced, setting plates on the table. His voice was warm, inviting.
"Marco, you are an angel," his mother sighed, taking a bite of pancake. "I don't know how we'd manage without you."
Marco chuckled, shaking his head. "Mom, you say that every day."
"But it's true, mijo," Rafael added. "Always so responsible, so dependable. A true Diaz!"
Marco smiled, pleased. He liked hearing that. His parents never fought, never argued—not because they had no reason to, but because Marco made sure there was never a reason.
One of his friends had once commented, "Dude, your parents treat you like you're a saint."
A Saint.
Marco disliked that word.
School was the same as always. A breeze, really. Everyone liked Marco. Why wouldn't they? He had a reputation.
"The Safe Kid," they called him. The one teachers trusted, the one parents wanted their kids to befriend. Friendly, smart, responsible. No trouble. No risks.
He made sure it stayed that way.
So when the voice crackled over the intercom during third period, calling him to the principal's office, he merely smiled.
"Marco Diaz, to the principal's office. Marco Diaz, to the principal's office."
A murmur spread through the classroom.
"Ooooh, Marco's in trouble," Janna teased from the back.
"Probably some misunderstanding," Ferguson shrugged. "He's, like, the last person to ever get called in."
Marco chuckled along with them. "Guess I'll find out."
He walked out calmly, head high. He didn't get nervous over things like this.
But it was interesting. The principal never called him in.
Principal Skeeves was grinning ear to ear when Marco walked in.
"Marco, my boy!" he boomed. "Come in, come in!"
Marco stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. Principal Skeeves only acted like this when he was excited about something.
"Sir," Marco greeted, his voice measured. "Is there something I can help with?"
"Oh, absolutely! We have a very special new student." He gestured toward the window. "Look outside."
Marco turned his gaze to the courtyard.
A blonde girl in a frilly pink dress was locked in fierce battle—against a drinking fountain.
Marco took in the scene, his mind processing at lightning speed. The girl wasn't just new—she was...atypical, to say the least.
Skeeves clapped a hand on his shoulder. "That's Star Butterfly. And you, my dear boy, are going to be her guide!"
Marco turned back, offering the principal a polite, knowing smile. "Of course, sir. I'd be happy to help."
He was already piecing it together in his head. A new student. Someone who didn't know the rules of this world, who would need guidance, direction…
Dependence.
When Marco stepped out of the office, Star Butterfly was already waiting for him.
She beamed. "Hi! You must be Marco! I'm your new best friend!"
She extended a hand, eyes bright with excitement.
Marco took it, smiling back just as warmly. "Nice to meet you, Star."
"So, where are you from?" Marco asked casually. Probing.
"Oh, I'm a magical princess from another dimension!" she declared proudly.
Marco expected some ridiculous answer, but that? That was beyond even his expectations.
Before he could respond, she twirled her wand. A rainbow burst into existence between them, sparkling in the air. Small, round creatures with tiny wings popped into existence, giggling.
Marco blinked.
Then the rainbow exploded into flames. The creatures screamed and scurried away.
Magic.
Star rubbed the back of her head, grinning sheepishly. "Oops."
Marco's mind worked fast. No accent, no hesitation in English, no signs of cultural misunderstandings—except everything else about her.
His fingers twitched slightly.
The abnormal.
A flaw in the mechanism.
But maybe…
An opportunity.