Page 52 of Portrait of A Lost Artist
?CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
VERONICA
“We lost what we had and now I want it, now I want it back...’cause you’ve still got it.”- Still Got It by Troye Sivan.
TWENTY ONE MONTHS LATER.
THE SHEER DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE STATES AND FAMILIAR CUBA STRIKES ME IMMEDIATELY.Even the streets, a blend of soaring high-rises and vibrant palm trees, hum with a forgotten quality, a story murmured as the taxi carries me toward Zeke, our long-awaited meeting finally unfolding after months of planning.
Ezequiel’s fame had grown like a pimple on a teenager’s face before prom. It was a stark transformation. One moment, he was the familiar kid I’d grown up with, the one whose teenage dreams crumbled under the weight of adulthood. The next, he was a burgeoning Latin music sensation in Los Angeles, seamlessly blending reggaeton and pop, a phoenix rising to dominate Spotify playlists. A far cry from his youthful ambition of being a mambo singer, yet his success was undeniable, more than I could have ever wished for him.
Someone is not so happy about me travelling to Zeke’s new hometown for his birthday, and that just has to be Alessia. Speaking of, she’s roaming around the bed, her blonde hair falling slightly on the screen of her phone as we FaceTime. The taxi driver can’t understand what we are saying, thankfully, because she has been arguing with me for what feels like an hour.
“You shouldn’t have gone to California for him.” And the truth is, I genuinely don’t know if I should be here. For the longest time, a desire to hide away in Havana consumed me, shrouded in shame for my estrangement from my family and for falling for a man whose life mirrored the one Zeke is currently building. Yet, the strength of our friendship outweighs my fear of judgment for loving someone else. “Zeke hasn’t visited Havana in over two years. I imagine he has changed who he is entirely. What are you going to do if he’s not the same man you were best friends with?”
I know for a fact there is a history behind my two best friends, though I would never know who is the one who should take the blame for the shredded pieces of their hearts. However, Alessia has a point. Zeke and I have only kept in contact through the phone, and with his busy schedule, it is hard to meet up like we did before. For all I know, he could be an entirely different person.
Or he could be the friend that I have grown to adore since plenty of years ago.
“It’s his birthday. He has no one to spend it with.” I tell her, only to have Alessia scoff. Instead of palm trees, brilliant golden lights illuminate the scene, and expensive convertibles are a rare but striking sight along the sides of the street we’re now on.
“Keep telling that to yourself.” She rolls her pretty eyes. “He must be spending it with his new friends.”
“Alessia!”
“What?”
“There is nothing wrong with him having a new life. I support him.” I hide my nervousness about this reunion; it’s only natural to feel uneasy when someone you know has become a celebrity. He’s become very well known. “...Your distaste for him shouldn’t stop me from travelling and seeing him, if that’s what I please.”
Alessia’s lips pucker, like a child who is being scolded and doesn’t like it one bit. “Alright, there’s nothing I can do if you want to be friends with assholes like that.” She says, sitting up straighter to take a sip from her minion mug. “You told me he was taking you to—”
“A restaurant that is, supposedly, the best he’s ever had.” He always said that about Aseré, but even thinking about the family restaurant makes me nervous. I’m still not allowed to go in there after the fight with Mom. Seeing Adam and Dad outside is normal now, and they say the business is doing great, as always. “I should get there any minute.”
“Yank away all his money in food to honor me, will you?”
“Oh, I’m starving after the flight. Of course, I will.”
