"Lucio was once my friend. I don't know what went wrong—one day, I trusted him, shared one of my deepest secrets, and after that, he just stopped talking to me. He simply started ignoring me."
Flashback: Age 12
(Summer afternoon—Olivia and Lucio sit beneath a sprawling tree, its leaves casting dappled shadows over them.)
Olivia: "Hey, Lucio! There's something I want to share, but promise me you'll keep it a secret, okay?"
Lucio: (tilts his head, curious) "A secret? Fine. But if it's something embarrassing, I'm using it against you later."
Olivia: (huffs, crossing her arms) "I'm serious! You have to promise."
Lucio: (rolls his eyes but softens) "Alright, alright. I promise."
She whispered.
(She hesitates for a moment, gripping the hem of her shirt before taking a deep breath.)
Lucio pulled back, his expression wounded. He pushed himself up and fled, not daring to look back.
He looked absolutely terrified.
The memory faded, pulling her back to the present.
"Thinking back, I wish I had kept it to myself."
Olivia headed to town to buy food.
Lucio stands by the window, watching Olivia in silence.
Lucio: "Olivia… my heart aches for you, but sorrow clings to me like an unyielding shackle."
He sighed. "I should get back to work."
The afternoon sun draped golden ribbons across the pavement as Olivia shifted the weight of her grocery bags. The rhythmic hum of cicadas blended with the distant chatter from the town. She sighed, adjusting the bags from one arm to the other—just a few more steps, and she'd be home.
She saw Lucio sitting in front of his house, a cigar smoldering between his fingers. He exhaled a slow plume of smoke, watching it twist into the golden afternoon air.
Lucio noticed her immediately, and in a panic, he dropped the cigarette, crushing it under his boot as if trying to erase the evidence.
"Lucio? You're smoking now?" she asked, her brow knitting in concern as she took a step closer.
"Hey! You're ignoring me again," Olivia said, her voice rising.
Lucio barely spared her a glance before turning away. Without a word, he strode back into his house, leaving the heavy scent of cigar smoke lingering in the air.
As he closed the door, regret gnawed at him. "Why did I act like that? She looked genuinely concerned, but it was just a cigar. Why did it feel like more?".
In the other house, Olivia paced back and forth, frustration bubbling in her chest.
"What happened to him? Why is he smoking now? Doesn't he know it's bad for him?"
Olivia clenched her fists, frustration boiling over.
"Fine! If he won't explain himself, I'll make him listen."
She stormed toward Lucio's house, each step fueled by indignation. When she reached his door, she didn't hesitate—she rapped her knuckles against the wood, sharp and demanding.
"Lucio! Open up!"
Lucio, caught off guard as he held a glass, let it slip from his grip.
KRRSSHH!
The sharp crack of shattering echoed through the room. His breath hitched. "Was that Olivia?".
Lucio stood frozen, his pulse hammering in his ears.
Thump-thump… Thump-thump…
The shattered glass lay at his feet, but he barely noticed.
She's still out there.
His hand hovered near the doorknob, fingers twitching. He wanted to open it—he should open it—but something held him back.
The weight of his regret, the sting of his foolishness, the uncertainty of what Olivia might say.
The knock came again, sharper this time.
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK!
"Lucio! Don't make me knock all night!"
Lucio took a deep breath, steeling himself. His fingers curled around the doorknob, hesitant, before he finally twisted it open.
As the door swung inward, Olivia stood there, arms crossed, her expression sharp with frustration.
"Well?" she demanded. "Are you going to explain yourself, or do I have to drag it out of you?"