Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Isabela's POV:

Isabela has never liked Camilo.

Not since she first realized what an annoying little shit he was, of course. She used to not like Mirabel, but at least Mirabel was smart, mature, kind, levelheaded, and patient, and although she could be mischievous, too--at least once hanging around that mocoso--she ultimately meant well, didn't actively set out to hurt anyone, knew her limits, and was only having fun. Plus, she helped Isabela learn that she could grow more than just plants.

But Camilo didn't know when too far was too far. He was always making noise, always drawing attention to himself, always causing hullabaloo and havoc, always being a thorn in Isabela's cactus. And he never knew when to quit. Once, Mirabel replaced one of Isabela's favorite succulents with a fake replica, and watched her water it for days and didn't say a word. But at least the other plant wasn't dead. She still had Pepa water it for Isabela, and once came up to Isabela to ask her "How's the cactus coming along?", only to hear Isabela go "Not good, it's barely growing. Am I not giving it enough water? Or am I giving it too much?" and responding with "Are you sure you've been watering it at all?" before presenting her with the real plant and laughing in her face. But that was something Isabela could get over.

Camilo, on the other hand...once transformed into Dolores and told Mariano all the nasty things Isabela didn't actually say about him. Once set Isabela's alarm clock an hour late when she was taking a mid-evening nap, just so he could sit at the table both as himself and her and eat "her" meal as seconds for himself. Once published her diary in the town newspaper. She's still trying to figure out how he did that, although she does have some idea why. Once fed her broccoli to Antonio's rabbits just because she told him no once. And the worst part was that he lied about it all. He lied, right to her damn face, about the things "Dolores" said to Mariano, even going so far as to claim it was the real Dolores. Lied and said he was trying to wake Isabela up when he saw her oversleeping, and only pretended to be her and eat her share of food after saying he was going to his room so that it wouldn't be suspicious. Lied and claimed that he didn't know it was her diary, just a very sad--and funny--book. Lied and said that Antonio's rabbits were hungry and he fed them the closest thing that was next to them, it just so happened that they were in her room, but really, it had nothing to do with her at all, he swore! He lied through his teeth about every damn thing and didn't even care if it was plausible to the ear. A child could see through his lies, but what mattered to Camilo was evading any and all accountability for his actions, something men are good at, it seems. And Isabela was having none of it.

Today, he stole her makeup. Well, actually, he was always stealing her makeup. Dolores' too. And the fact that this wasn't by any means a new occurrence irritated her even more! She was ready to rip her perfect hair out. Each and every time Mirabel or Pepa or Bruno came into her room to have a chat or ask for something, she found out later on, too late on, that her concealer or blush or powder was missing. Sometimes, the whole entire fucking kit was missing. It made her want to scream, to boil his ears. Each and every time she tried to explain to him NOT to steal her shit, and each and every time he threw his hands up into the air, either metaphorically or literally, and swore up and down that he did NOT steal her makeup, even when his face was so obviously contoured and his eyelids were a few shades darker than they should be. Isabela didn't even wear her makeup as much as she used to, but if there was one thing she did still do as much as she used to, it was--actually, two things. One was have a temper. The other was NOT LIKE when people took her personal belongings without her permission. If the little shit had simply asked to borrow her makeup, or asked for help with applying them to his own face--because he sure as hell needed it--she would've gladly allowed him. She would've graciously lent him a helping hand. She liked to think of herself as a forgiving and kind person, one whom you could always go to for help. But Camilo didn't know how to do things the simple way. Only how to obfuscate situations and irritate the hell out of his cousin.

Yes, he was her cousin. Yes, she knew hating her cousin wasn't normal. She knew it was frowned upon to have such burning and passionate hatred for your own kin, your own flesh and blood(or half, since, when you really think about it, cousins on your parents' siblings sides of the family are only really half-related to you, but that's an unecessary distinction.). But to shit with that. She still hated him.

Today, Isabela was watering her cactus. She had named it Proserpina. It was the first thing she had grown that wasn't a flower. She would've named it Mirabel, but the actual Mirabel talked her out of watering her own "sister". So Proserpina was the next best bet. It was just as pretty as her actual cousin's name, wasn't it? Proserpina was growing big and strong since she had last grown it, and it was reaching full maturity. Perhaps she could enroll it into this year's annual cactus-growing contest. She couldn't lift or carry it, but her younger sister, Luisa, could. She had been the one to carry it into Isabela's room, and set it near to her bed, though not too near of course.

She patted it--not too hard, of course--letting her fingertips barely graze the spikes. She would've hugged it if it weren't a cactus. That would be like Camilo hugging her. Ew. No. It didn't grow bigger at her touch like it used to, but that was fine. It wasn't as fun as actually getting to water it and watch it bloom. She then went to go water her other flowers, but suddenly a knock came on the door.

"Isa, dinner's ready!" Dolores called.

Isabela was suspect. The last time "Dolores" had come into her room, she had found herself without her concealer and lipstick. "You'd better not be Camilo," she whispered, barely under her breath.

"Camilo is downstairs with the rest of the family, Bela," Dolores assured her. Isabela turned to look at her younger cousin and closest friend. Sure enough, it was Dolores. Only Dolores could've heard her at her level of voice. And Camilo would've cracked a stupid, irritating grin eventually. Someone with his "gift" couldn't afford to be such a blatantly open book, and yet here he was. He would never get ahead in theatre like that.

Isabela sighed. "All right, I'm coming." She sprinkled some water on the nearest chrysanthemum, plucked it, and popped it into her mouth, chewing as she walked downstairs to see everyone else at the table drinking sancocho de pollo. She waved at Mirabel and Luisa, who waved back. Good, so Camilo was there.

"Hola, Isa," he said with a smile. Isabela snorted. The little shit had the nerve to actually speak to her? To look in her direction? They shouldn't even be breathing the same fucking AIR right now. But Isabela took a few deep breaths, determined to be the bigger person in this scenario and not spread negativity during what should be a fun family event. She looked him up and down and ignored.

"Oooookay? No response," he mumbled under his breath, never taking his eyes off her as he lowered his head to eat. Something he didn't need to do. He wasn't even that tall.

I hate you.

It suddenly occurred to her that Camilo was eyeing her so intently because he wanted her to check out his makeup. His stupid makeup. "What's that on your face?" she demanded to know.

I hate you.

Camilo blinked obliviously like a dummy. "Wha...what's on my face? There's nothing on my face..."

"Yeah there is."

"No. There isn't."

"Mmm-hmmm."

"This guy tried to challenge me to an arm-wrestling contest today and I beat him," Luisa randomly interjected for some reason. "His arm is broken and he's in the hospital now."

"Why didn't Mami heal him?" Mirabel asked.

"If I go to my room right now and I find something missing, then--" Isabela huffed. "I may not be Luisa, but you'll be no better off than that man, y'hear?"

"I...what?" he said like an idiot. But what Isabela refused to notice was his eyes scurrying across the room, panning across each of his family members' faces, even though all were engrossed in their own chatter and none of them were paying him any mind. She chose to ignore his humongous eyes owlishly screaming "DON'T TELL!"

"I will admit that you are getting better." Isabela peered closer. "Or maybe you're just going for the minimalist look. Either way, it might actually be a good thing that you're wearing makeup. To, you know, hide the ugly scar of a face that you have. Though that may mean that the minimalist look is not for you."

I HATE YOU!

"Uh huh," Camilo yelled a little too loudly. "Hey, Mira, do you know of the--"

"I'm not done criticizing your appearance," Isabela shut him up. "You could use a little less mascara and a little more blush. And try going for a nude look. Oh, but who am I kidding? You'll always be Quasimodo-looking, no matter how hard you t--"

"OKAY, I GET IT, YOU THINK I'M UGLY, KNOCK IT OFF, WILL YOU?!?!?!" Silence evaporated all the chatter out of the room, as everybody looked at Camilo.

"Oh, so that's where my makeup kit went," Dolores quipped dryly, being the only one who didn't look up at her brother's humiliating display of impulsive emotion, instead, keeping her eyes on her food and eating it, dispassionately.

Camilo, meanwhile, looked around the table, and for once, he didn't like being in the center of attention. "Geez," he wheezed, as he sat back down, hissing his teeth. Unusually though unsurprisingly enough, Felix didn't elbow him, instead, gently placing a hand on his shoulder and whispering something softly into his ear. Camilo kept looking at Isabela, eyes welling up with tears, before turning to Felix and nodding his head. "I'm all right, Papi, it's just that--she hates me. She hates me and I don't know why."

Isabela glanced at him, shrugged, and went back to eating. Camilo, meanwhile, didn't hesitate to fill himself up with corn, tomatoes, pork, chicken, plaintains, onions, and potatoes. The sight alone disgusted Isabela to see. Stupid greedy pig, always stuffing his mouth with food. Always filling his gut. It was a good thing Camilo was a teenager, otherwise he would be fat. Isabela remembered when she was able to take that luxury.

She felt Mirabel's hand on hers. "Isa, what's gotten into you?"

Isabela sighed, squeezing sympathy out of an unwitting Mirabel. "I'm just annoyed at him pulling the same pranks again, you know how it is."

"Oh, okay. I understand if you're annoyed, but that's just Camilo, he didn't mean any harm."

That's just Camilo. He didn't mean any harm. Not when he embarrassed you repeatedly.

"Mmmhmm." Isabela responded, continuing to eat. Looking at Camilo eat like a teenage boy would only make her throw up.

"You should probably apologize to him after dinner."

"Mmmhmm."

"No, I'm telling you to apologize. After dinner. So make sure you do it, okay?"

"Mmmhmm!" Isabela sounded more annoyed, but she continued to eat.

Meanwhile, Camilo filled his gut with as much food as it could possibly hold for the time being.

When dinner was finally done, everyone helped to clear the tables. Yes, even Antonio. The children put the dishes and cups away, Julieta and Pepa washed the dishes, Abuela washed the pans and cooking instruments, Felix and Agustin wiped down the kitchen table, and Antonio and Bruno got their animal friends to eat any dry crumbs and leftovers off of the floor. And then wiped the floor.

"Hey, Lola," Isabela purposely avoided Mirabel to instead approach her cousin. "This Sunday, after church, do you wanna go riding our bikes in the park?"

"I'd love to!" Dolores chirped. "And on the way, there's this really cool play they're doing in the park that we have to go see! It's called 'Princess Serafina and the Key to the Dragon's Lair'! It's wonderful! We have to go see it!"

"I've heard of it," Isabela said. "I've wanted to go see it for the longest time, too." She'd seen posters for it throughout the Encanto, pictures of a beautiful dark-skinned princess with radiant black curls flowing behind her, wearing a long pink dress and a tiara, and wielding a bow and arrow. With serpent-like dragons all around her.

"What time is it?"

Dolores cocked her head. "I don't remember, but it's sometime after...I think 8:00? Just to be safe, we should be there by then."

"Oh, okay!" As Isabela was getting away to go water her plant, Dolores' words stopped her, and ruined the moment.

"We should invite Camilo to go with us! He loves theatre, everyone knows that!"

Isabela's temple spasmed.

"And he loves stories about princesses, specifically warrior princesses."

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Or what was it her Tía Pepa was always saying? Clear skies, clear skies, clear skies.

"We can make it a three-person event! Granted, he's horse manure at riding a bike, but we can always go biking and then pick him up after--"

"If he's going, I'm not going."

Dolores shuddered, not out of fear, but out of discomfort at her older cousin and best friend's tone.

"But, why--?"

"I said I'm not going. Not if he is, that is."

"Isa, what's gotten into you, lately? You were always scornful of him, but now you're cruel. Why do you hate Camilo?"

"Why do I hate Camilo?! Why don't you ask him why he hates me?" Isabela huffed, with her arms crossed. She knew she looked more immature than Antonio throwing a temper tantrum, and was thankful that the rest of the family had left and wasn't paying attention. But she didn't care. Camilo was immature to her first.

"Why don't you ask him why he sets out to humiliate me?" Isa demanded. "Why don't you ask him what I did to be his object of mockery and scorn? Why don't you ask him why he takes my makeup and ruined my image in front of Mariano, when there were a million other ways to ruin that proposal? Why don't you ask him why he goes out of his way to constantly ruin my life?"

Dolores haltered. Taking a few deep breaths, she stook firmly to her own decision. "I guess I'll just ask him, then."

"Yeah, see if he wants to go to the stupid performance," Isabela grumbled and rolled her eyes.

Dolores walked up the steps to his room. "Huh. That's strange. He's not in there."

She walked back downstairs. "Did Camilo help with the cleanup?"

Isabela thought about that for a while, and then realized he didn't. "Nope. He ran up the steps with his greedy self and probably went to do his own dumb thing."

"Don't say that." Dolores frowned. "He's not the type to chuck responsibilities."

"Can't you listen to him?" Isabela asked.

"I guess so," Dolores said. Over the years, she had learned to drown out sounds she didn't want to hear, and let it be mere elevator music in the scene of her life. It was how she coped with the sounds of people having sex, people saying straight-up harmful things to each other, people fighting, people hurting each other, people snoring, people coughing and sneezing and being sick, hearts stopping...

Dolores elevated the sound of Camilo to find out where he was. Then, just as quickly, she turned that sound down and violently covered her ears. "Ew!" she screamed.

"Ew, what?" Isabela asked. Granted, she knew why it was "ew". It was Camilo. But she felt like this was the time to be serious.

"Ew, he's in the bathroom!" Dolores winced and squeaked.

"In the bathroom...doing what? Peeing? Pooping? Something..." Isabela didn't want to think about that other possibility. "...self-care related?"

"Eep! Vomiting!"

Isabela froze. "Why on Earth would he be vomiting?"

"I don't know!" Dolores wailed.

"I told you that pig shouldn't have gobbled up all of that food. Just thinking about it makes me wanna vomit, too."

"Isabela, STOP!"

And she did. She placed two gentle, warm, and loving hands over Dolores', which were plastered over her own ears. "Hey, it's okay, we can get through this together." It was selfish of her to say, of course. Only Dolores was going "through" this. "If you want, you don't have to go see. I can do so by myself."

"Yeah, but he's my brother! I have to look out for him!" Dolores cried. "And I thought you didn't like him?"

"Oh, I hate him," Isabela made clear. "But that doesn't mean I'm gonna let him torture your ears. Come on, let's go."

Wrapping a caring arm around Dolores' shoulders, she walked her delicately up the steps, each one bringing her closer and closer to the disgusting sounds, making Dolores squeak with immense physical pain. And each one increasing Isabela's hatred of her male cousin more and more and more.

When they finally got to the bathroom and Dolores had to resist the urge to break into tears, Isabela warmly comforted her, gave her a nice hug and a soft kiss, and said, "It's all right, you don't have to put up with this. Go get some sleep, please."

Dolores "eep!"-ed and ran like a bat out of hell back to her room.

The moment she was gone, Isabela knocked softly on the door.

The vomiting stopped almost instantly, although Isabela could tell the boy's sputtering lips were still holding some in.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

"GO AWAY!!!" She heard the sound of air freshener being rapidly sprayed inside the bathroom.

"I will not!" She created a cactus, took off a spike, and used that spike to pick the lock of the bathroom door. Throwing it open, she marched right in, where Camilo was perched over the toilet like a baby bird in a bird fountain, clutching his stomach, shivering, crying, and hiccupping. And vomiting. Albeit softer this time.

Stil, Isabela chose violence.

"If you weren't so greedy, this wouldn't have happened. How can you be so selfish? Do you realize you're causing others pain? Dolores is in her room right now lying down with a splitting headache and a big pillow around her head. Because of you. What if the other members of the familia were to see you in such a pathetic state as the one you are in? You're lucky they're related to you, or they wouldn't want anything to do with you zit al. Shit, I'm related to you, and even I want nothing to do with you at the moment. Don't face me, you smell like vomit. Keep your head over the toilet so that if you need to throw up, you can keep doing it, all right?"

Camilo sniffled. More tears formed from his eyes, and he kept crying. Isabela had to fight to stay mad. Because before she knew it, Camilo was fully, outright bawling. The tears were flowing uncontrollably from his face and showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. He hiccupped and sniffled and sobbed, and was also no longer hunched over the toilet. Instead, he was lying rolypoly style on his right side, clutching his thin, waifish frame, and wailing mercilessly. And Isabela actually...felt sympathy for him. What little anger she had festering inside her soul after seeing that sight...evaporated. And only tender-hearted pity remained.

Isabela actually felt like crying herself. What did she do? She felt like a monster.

"Camilo, I'm--"

"You know nothing about me," Camilo interrupted, and for once in her life Isabela shut the hell up and listened to what he had to say. "You think you do. But you don't. You think that what you see is what you get. But it's not. You have no idea what I'm going through. You have no idea how I truly feel. And you don't even realize how your words affect me! That, or you simply don't care." He grunted in pain, sniffled, then moved on. "Because you're too busy being señorita perfecta y hermosa to care about people who aren't as supermodel flawless as you. So maybe instead of needlessly judging people, you should actually, I don't know, develop a fucking conscience and try to put yourself in someone else's chanclas, all right?"

"..."

"All right?"

Isabela nodded. "A-all right."

It was then when she looked down and realized the empty container lying down next to Camilo. She bent down and picked it up.

Camilo struggled to pick himself up, but only fell back down again, gripping the vomit-stained seat of the toilet for stability. "Don't...don't touch that...!" he slurred.

"No," she said, refusing to comply. "I think I am going to."

She realized that it wasn't just any container. It was a pill container. And it wasn't entirely empty. She poured out the remains into her open palm. And to her horror, two little greenish-black pills fell out.

Camilo's voice cracked, and not because of puberty. "Isa...no...if anybody finds that, I'll be done for. I'll be sent to a mental psych ward. I'll be lobotomized...I'll--"

"Camilo, that's enough." She stopped him sternly and yet calmly. She was no longer mad--at least, not at him--nor was she about to yell. She felt she had thrown enough aggression at him already. Camilo quickly piped down. Isabela wasn't mad at him, and she was going to make sure he understood that. Rather, Isabela was mad at what he was doing to himself.

She held up the container, waving it slightly, and stared at Camilo, waiting for an answer.

"Camilo. What is this? What have you been doing to yourself? Explain it to me, right now."

Chapter Text

Camilo's POV:

Camilo has always loved Isabela.

Well, of course he did. He was her cousin, of course. Of course he loved all of his family members. But the sheer and unadulterated love he felt for Isabela in particular was pure and something totally different. It wasn't just love. It was admiration. He loved how mature she was, how strong-willed she was, how perfect and pretty and feminine and smart and unique she was. And how she learned to embrace her own identity. Something he still had yet to do for himself. Isabela was everything Camilo was not. And that was why Camilo aspired to be just like her in the near and possible future. I mean, it's not like there was anything great or distinctive about who he was. Not with his gift, at least, he didn't waste any time being other people. And maybe that was why he loved shapeshifting as her so much.

Still, a part of his love came from jealousy. Jealousy that Isabela was so happy and loved, while Camilo was miserable and hiding his depression behind smiles and banter, and everybody around him secretly hated him and his silly attitude. Jealousy that Isabela's gift was so much more useful than his own, both beautiful AND functional, deadly too, even if she didn't know it at first. Jealousy that she had herself all figured out, while Camilo still didn't know who the hell he was. Jealousy that she was the golden child of the family while he could never measure up. Jealousy that she was everything Camilo was not.

When he first caught wind of Isabela's engagement to Mariano, of all people, he felt hurt, saddened, sorrow, betrayal, even, anything but surprise. He knew it would never be. He knew an age gap of 15 and 21 was too much of a power imbalance. He knew better than to even try pushing his luck. But through it all he simply couldn't help but be lovesick. His feelings never went away.

Still, he smiled at the exciting and joyful news and cheered and clapped along with the rest of the family while his heart snapped. Isabela was everything Camilo was not and would never be, including the fiancé and eventual spouse of Mariano--his Mariano.

Camilo lost track of how many nights he laid awake in the pitch-black darkness of his room when he should've been asleep like the rest of his family, the rain that hit his pillowsheets rivalling Pepa's storms. He lost track of how many times the numbness swelled up inside of his tummy, bringing with it a chilling desire to muffle his shrieks of misery, to tighten the grip of his pillow around his mouth and nostrils, and to let it asphyxiate his unrequited love and grief out of him. But then people would see him for the shell he really was, and he couldn't even begin to imagine the things that would be said by people.

His life was a play. He spent all day every day acting, performing, putting on a show for his family, his neighbors, his friends, and the good people in the community. He spent all day spreading nothing but happiness and positivity to everyone else around him. And yet he himself felt none of it. He wanted so badly to take off his mask, to not have to be funny or happy or silly for everybody else, who constantly wanted a clown performance and a face full of pie. He wondered what everybody else would think of him then. But then again, he remembered. He remembered the last few times he came to the breakfast table and sat down in front of his family, wearing a sour facial expression, his real face, without a mask. But then his best friend and younger cousin Mirabel asked him what was wrong--in a joking way, of course. Obviously nothing could have been really wrong, because Camilo's never unhappy, everyone knows that. He didn't have the energy to tell her that it wasn't so much that anything was wrong, but that he was like this all the time. He just didn't bother hiding it for once. And this was the reaction he received? From someone who was supposed to be his best friend, of all people?

And so he learned to shut up. He learned to hide it. He learned his lesson. Nobody cared what he had to say, anyway. Nobody cared how he felt. Nobody actually wanted him around. They wanted him to be other people; they wanted , a fake to give them comfort. And so that's what he would would be. If the world decided that his job was to put smiles on people's faces, then who was he to say no?

Nobody knew that he cried himself to sleep most nights--at least, most nights he wasn't snuggling with Mirabel. Nobody knew that that one time when he fell off the second story rail and the floor rose and formed a curve to save him wasn't an accident. Nobody knew that the reason he insistently kept all knives, scissors, razors, and other such sharp objects out of his room was because he feared giving into the thoughts that plagued his mind as he slept, feared what he'd do to himself alone and possessing the chance. Nobody knew that he had begun binging and purging, that after every breakfast, lunch, and dinner he ran to the bathroom to empty it all out--and that sometimes, when he couldn't vomit, he used laxatives or touched his uvula with his middle finger to make himself gag. Or both. That this was the real reason he didn't eat snacks, because eating or drinking anything that wasn't water gave him that sick and itchy feeling inside his stomach. It swelled up inside him, until he brought it back up and watched it splatter, mixing with the clear water inside the toilet, then got flushed away. And each and every time, he felt utterly disgusted with himself. But at least his bowels were clean. And as long as nobody knew what he was doing to himself, nobody was getting hurt, either. Except for him, that is, but who cared about him?

Isabela would probably be happy to see him in such a pathetic and sad state, considering how much she hated him. And yet he couldn't bring himself to hate her back, not if he couldn't blame her for hating him in the first place. After all, he hated himself. And above all, Isabela was still his family. Plus, she was Isabela. So of course he loved her tremendously. But as much as he loved Isabela, he also loved Mariano. And Mariano was his. 21 and your brain still isn't done developing. Mariano's clearly still wasn't done developing. But even if he couldn't have Mariano to himself, he could still spare himself some of the heartache that was soon to come and prevent Isabela from marrying him.

So he shapeshifted into his mature and graceful sister Dolores and approached Mariano with this appearance.

Mariano noticed "her" and smiled. "Dolores! I haven't seen you in ages! What's going on?"

Camilo smiled, having mastered his older sister's voice. "Hey, umm...there's something important that I think you deserve to know."

Mariano recognized the seriousness in Camilo's voice. "Oh? Is there?"

"Yeah," he said, dead serious. "You love Isabela, don't you?"

"Oh yes! I love Isabela! She is beautiful! And perfect! Her eyes are like two pools of warm honey, her lips are as shapely and smooth as a--"

Camilo didn't have time to listen to this. He swallowed back the venom in his throat. "She's cheating on you."

Mariano halted in his tracks, and Camilo resisted the urge to smile with satisfaction at this. Dolores would be mournful, empathetic, understanding. Far from the sheer ecstacy Camilo felt at watching Mariano's face fall, almost believing his own lie.

He decided to twist the knife further, using some irony.

"Well, not cheating, per se. But I've seen her looking at other men. Handsome ones, too. I've heard her mourning to Dolor--" Shit. "Camilo, over the fact that she even has to marry you. She says some of the guys have been giving her attention, even though they know she's engaged to you. They call it--" He whispered this part quietly for emphasis, enjoying every minute of leading Mariano on a lead. "--Their Little Secret."

Mariano's eyes widened. "No--"

"Yes." Camilo softly breathed, his eyes too widened as he nodded.

Mariano buried his face in his hands, and sat down on a nearby bench on the sidewalk. Camilo smoothed out the back of his skirt as he had seen women do and lowered himself onto the seat of the bench beside his love.

"Isabela, why?! What do I do now?"

Love me.

"I know, buddy, I know you loved her." He almost bit his lip. Dolores would never call someone "buddy". But Mariano and Dolores barely talked, so it's possible he didn't know this fact. "But it's high-time you moved on. You don't want to get your heart-broken by her cruelty and recklessness. Worse yet, you don't wanna be trapped in a loveless relationship with a woman who's clearly looking the other way. Now do you?"

Mariano was crying. "I...I loved her."

"Mmm. And this is how she repays you." Camilo wrapped his arm around Mariano's hunky physique, resisting the shudder that he felt go through him, and suddenly perked up as another malicious thought sparked through his mind. "Wanna hear what else she said?!"

Mariano blinked and looked up at him. Camilo had a sliiiiight feeling that he was probably supposed to feel....bad? About this?

"She said more?"

Oh. Good thing Mariano is a himbo.

"Yeah, I'm Dolores and I hear everything. That's how I know."

Mariano was virtually crying in Camilo's chest right now, and people were watching. Which was funny, because Camilo hadn't even finished half of the lies he was rattling off to Mariano: You stink, you talk too much, you talk too loudly, you're stupid, you're weak, you're annoying, you're childish, you pick your nose too much, you're dumb, you're vapid, you're pathetic.

Camilo found it so cute how Mariano cried in his arms! He took a while to process the fact that he was holding the world. And since Mariano wasn't looking at him, he no longer had to hide the shit-eating grin on his face.

A few months later, Camilo was in his room, sitting in front of a vanity and applying makeup to his face. He didn't have anywhere to go and it's not like Mariano would see, but he still wanted to look his best.

The makeup wasn't his own, of course. He was too lazy and too unscrupulous to simply buy his own makeup. But just earlier he had went into Dolores' room as Antonio, crying mercilessly that he had lost something. Dolores took pity on him, obviously, because who wouldn't take pity on a five-year old? And asked him where it was. He had said that it was downstairs, in the darkest depths of the basement, and that he was too scared to go down there. That's why he wanted to wait in her room. He said he lost his stuffed turtle toy. And so Dolores fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. She got up, swooshed out of the room, and the next thing Camilo knew the kit was in his hands and he was leaving.

Camilo couldn't help but giggle to himself as he thought about what he had done. He was so sneaky! Plus he thought he was getting better at this makeup thi--

"CAMILO RICUARDO MADRIGAL!!!!!" He yelped in fear and surprise as someone kicked--yes, kicked--down the door. He turned around in horror, and saw wacky reflections of Isabela in the funhouse mirrors. Then he saw the real Isabela show up in front of him, grab him by the collar--and part of his neck, ow!--lift him up closer to her face...and then slam him back down onto the vanity's table.

"Ow!" was all Camilo could say as he felt his head buzzing.

"Why? Why would you do it?"

"D-do what?" Camilo felt a little bit dizzy from the headbang, and couldn't remember what it is that he had done earlier this morning. Or even had for breakfast.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Are you feeling a little bit delirious? Or forgetful? Maybe if I bang your head a little harder you'll remember?!"

"I-I..." Suddenly it hit him. "That wasn't me, that actually WAS Dolores you saw! I don't even know what it is she sai--"

"Cut the crap already." Camilo froze as he stared into Isabela's eyes, which were shooting deadly daggers at him. "IsaDolores told me. She said that Mariano was so happy to marry a girl who wouldn't cheat on him! Or who didn't think of him as stupid, dumb, immature, and shallow! He swore she told him! And when she denied, he decided that she hit her head!"

Camilo's eyes widened. Then he had a realization. "Wait--what do you mean 'marry a girl'?"

Isabela rolled her eyes. "Umm, as in Dolores?"

"..."

"You mean you don't know? After I told Mariano I couldn't bring myself to marry him, he went moping, because he believed your lies!"

"Even though you not marrying him means you couldn't be a cheater?" Camilo sneered, hiding the fact that his heart was sinking as he grew more horrified by the second. "Sounds like he wasn't thinking it thro--"

"And then Dolores approached us--"

"Who's us?" Camilo knew the answer, but he would do anything to stall the completion of this story, that he knew was doomed to come.

"UGH! me and Mirabel, you dummy. And asked us if we could please pair her up with her love Mariano."

But Mariano's supposed to me MY love!!!

"So we did. And now they're dating! I bet within a few months they'll be engaged, too!" She grinned maliciously at the heartbroken teenage boy, as if she could see his loss and was eating it up. "Isn't that wonderful?"

No.

No matter how seamlessly you glue together broken glass, it will never be the same. There will always be cracks where the glass got cracked. Such was the case for Camilo's heart. He had loved Mariano so madly, so devotedly, so fiercely. And this was what it amounted to. Shattered little shards of his heart that was so big, too big, all over the floor, with him on his hands and knees, picking them up, but having them fall through his fingers anyway. He knew he didn't stand a chance, but it still destroyed him. He should've known that Dolores would get to him first. He remembered all those nights Dolores spent crying into his arms, as he cradled her gently, lying next to her in her bed. She was six years older than him, and yet here he was, babying her, running his fingers through her hair the way a father would a daughter, as she stained his chest, a quiver in her wail, a crack in her voice, as her shoulders shuddered. While he remained as cool as a cucumber.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that he had to coax her with sweet, nurturing words in her ear about how the right man would come along and love her through and through, when he was in the exact damn same situation with the exact damn same man. And yet he bore the weight of both their unrequited loves. But Dolores had moved on, she had stopped living up to her name, for the man she had spent months weeping over to her younger brother--who secretly just wanted her to stop, to grow some ovaries, to get over it already--had looked her way at last. And they were together. Now it was he who was left behind. And there was nobody around to cradle him to sleep, to hold him and run their fingers through his hair as he cried, to tell him that he was only so young and would find his mutual true love eventually.

Something about that made him want to cry.

And indeed, his lip quivered as salty liquid threatened to spill out of his eyes, only daintily dancing on his eyelashes.

"Awww, what's wrong?" Isabela falsely coaxed. "Wishing you had sabotaged Dolores' happy relationship with Mariano instead?"

Yes.

Camilo pushed Isabela off of him and walked a good distance away from her. He couldn't take it. He couldn't handle the torment.

He placed a gentle hand over his chest, feeling his heart ache. He gripped the chest area around his ruana too tightly. He wanted to suffocate into nothingness.

"I know you are, you little snake. Always wanting to ruin someone else's life." But Camilo kept his face turned away from Isabela, so as to not let her get the satisfaction of seeing the tears stroll down his face. Fortunately--and unfortunately--for him, she turned her attention to his vanity. "And what's this? Makeup?" He panicked as he heard footsteps grow louder, then a violent hand gripped his shoulder, threatening to whip him around. Isabela was strong, and definitely much stronger than Camilo. But Camilo kept his head lowered.

"Up!" Isabela grabbed him by the chin and raised his head up to face hers.

Camilo shoved her face away. "Leave me alone!" he growled. "Don't touch me! Just leave me to be in peace!" He ran to his bed and theatrically flopped down onto it like a Disney Princess, his face falling into a fluffy blue pillow.

Isabela didn't say anything for a while, though Camilo could tell that she was obviously still there, and he wondered if she actually wavered. Then, with a humph, she sauntered out of the room.

Camilo felt a very sour lump in his throat. He choked into his pillow. How much pain can one little boy take?

New steps echoed through his room. And he heard the sound of something being picked up off of his vanity. Ugh.

"Camilo, give me back my makeup! I don't know how many times I have to tell you this!"

Camilo murmured, "Well, you're taking it, so what's the point of telling me to give it back?"

Dolores noticed the cry for help muffled under a snarky tone--and, umm, a pillow--and turned to peer at him.

"Mi vida, is everything all right?"

Did it look like everything was all right?

Camilo sniffled, letting out a hiccup, and felt the tears were on their way. He didn't wanna ruin his makeup, even though he ruined it already.

Camilo felt something heavy lower on the other side of the bed as it shifted.

"Cami, look at me." She easily picked him up and turned him to face her. To her shock, his face was stained with a streaks of black tears. "Nene, what's wrong? Did something bad happen?"

Yes. You are what happened.

Camilo, as usual, felt a surge of selfishness rush through his veins. He realized that he wanted Dolores to see him cry. He wanted her to be his shoulder to cry on. He wanted her to make up for all the nights he spent up, hugging and comforting her as she sobbed to her heart's content. He wanted things to be fair.

So he cried. He cried his heart out, his grief, his pain, his unrequited love.

And Dolores hugged him. And comforted him with soft words that things would get better, much better.

But Camilo didn't believe it. Not even the tiniest bit.

Chapter Text

Camilo's POV:

"Isa?"

Isabela didn't answer, and instead continued to snore.

Camilo tried again. "Isa? Are you awake?"

Isabela continued sleeping.

"Dinner's ready. Mariano's coming over." To be honest, he was more excited about that news than she would've been if she heard it. "You sure you don't wanna wake up and...and have some dinner?"

The snores intensified, and Camilo was pretty sure she was doing it on purpose.

"Good."

He picked up her alarm clock and turned the hands, setting it so that it would ring an hour late, exactly when dinner would be finished, just to spite her.

Then he shapeshifted into Isabela and left.

Just in time, he saw Mirabel. "Hey, Isabela! Ready for dinner?"

"Isabela" smiled and nodded. As they walked down the stairs, Camilo cleared his throat, making sure that he could reach Isabela's voice register.

"Excited to see your ex-boyfriend?" Mirabel teased in a deep, faux-sultry, teasing voice, as she bumped Camilo with her hip.

Yes!

Camilo blushed. Good thing Isabela had significantly darker skin than he did, or Mirabel would have seen his mini lovesick panic attack apparent all over his face. Granted, that wouldn't be all that embarrassing. Mirabel was the only one who already knew about Camilo's crush on Mariano. After the proposal was first announced at lunch one afternoon, Camilo had retreated to his room after having gone to the bathroom, and Mirabel had opened the door and walked in--without knocking, that is, but it was fine since it was Mirabel--and asked him what was wrong.

Camilo rolled over to the side so that his back was facing his BFF. "I'm just...tired...felt like taking a morning nap, that's all," he said. He looked down at and clutched his violently growling stomach, praying that Mirabel didn't hear or otherwise notice.

"Yeah right, Camilito. You're an open book, you know that, right?" Not as open as you'd like me to be. Mirabel sat down on the bed, resulting in a shift in the mattress that made Camilo's head split. "I'm not just your cousin, I'm your best friend. I know when something's bothering you. So tell me, what's up?"

Camilo knew he couldn't hide for long, but as a natural procrastinator, he decided that he wanted to stall this discussion for as long as he possibly could. He rolled over onto his back and gazed up at Mirabel. Mirabel smiled warmly at him--she had such a pretty smile. Camilo knew she wasn't going to pressure him into telling anything he didn't want to, but something about that made him feel pressured even more. He groaned and sat up, every movement making him see double as there was a faint ringing in his head, and he had a sudden urge to lie down. But he knew that would make it look like he was ignoring Mirabel yet again, and he realized that Mirabel wasn't going to get up any time soon and fully expected an answer this instant. So he was intent on giving it to her plainly.

"So...there's like...Isabela's marrying Mariano."

"Yeah, duh, I know that."

"Okay, and...umm, I'm happy for them, I really am." This was a lie.

"Of course! So am I!"

"Except, well...not really." This was the truth.

Mirabel cocked her head to the side, like a baby bunny. "Milo, what's wrong? Do you not like Mariano?" Camilo resisted the urge to laugh. "Do you not want him to be your brother-in-law?"

Camilo shyly looked down at his feet and watched them swing apathetically. "No...actually. I'm not happy with that."

I want him to be my husband.

"Then what is it?" Camilo continued looking down at the ground, blinking back tears profusely, and Mirabel couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't stand to see him like this. What happened to the funny, happy boy she used to know? She was sure he was still in there, somewhere. And she was going to dig him out.

"You're just gonna make fun of me." He barely mumbled.

Mirabel rolled not just her eyes, but her entire head. "UGH. No, I'm not!"

Camilo covered his face with his hands dramatically. "Yes you aaare."

Mirabel didn't know why she was wasting her time. Then she realized that Camilo was stalling for time himself.

Mirabel barely lifted her posterior off of the couch. If it worked with Antonio and his present, it would work with Camilo. "Fine then, I'm leaving."

Camilo wrapped a trembling hand around Mirabel's upper arm and quickly dragged her down. Mirabel sat back down, not out of force--she was in fact rather surprised that Camilo's grip on her felt so weak and barely there--but out of surprise.

"Cami?"

"...I'm in love with Mariano."

There was a pause, and a stillness in the air.

Mirabel jumped up from her cousin's bed, and this time Camilo didn't pull her back down. Instead, he watched in horror as she jumped up and down, her knees and back bent as her hands clutched her mouth. "YOU'RE WHAT?!?!?! OMG, YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH--"

Camilo growled, grabbed a pillow, and slammed it over his face as he let his body fall back onto the bed. "You said you wouldn't make fun of me!" He mumbled under the stuffing, feeling too relaxed like this.

"I-I'm not, it's just--" a series of giggles and mini-squeals erupted from her throat just then, replacing any words that would've come out. Stupid Camilo. He should've known that Mirabel got high on love and especially loved hearing about her friends and family members falling in love themselves. He himself recalled when her friend Emiliana confessed to her who she had a crush on. Mirabel had had a skip in her step all day, to the point where Camilo thought the two of them had crushes on each other. Turns out Emiliana had a crush on a boy, but Mirabel refused to tell who he was, only that Camilo knew him. Camilo had wondered who that boy could be, but right now, he didn't care.

Mirabel plopped down on the bed, and Camilo cursed violently, unbeknownst to her. He instantly regretted it, though, as he had a duty as the older cousin--even if it was only by a few months--to keep Mirabel innocent. What he regretted more, though, was lying down with a pillow over his head in the first place. Mirabel yanked the pillow off and forced him to sit upright.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?!" Mirabel whisper-squealed, jumping up and down on the bed and clapping her hands like a toddler. "This is juicy!"

Camilo felt lightheaded, but he ignored it. "Well, for one, there's the issue of, well, privacy, and two, it wasn't really...important? Back then? I mainly just let myself dream about it in peace."

"In peace?"

Camilo felt like he was telling a fairytale to a child, only one with a depressing ending. "Yeah, in peace. You know, without you?"

Mirabel didn't seem to register the blatant insult directed at her, though at least she calmed down more. "What...kinda dreams?"

"Ay, Dios mio, prima, do we really have to talk about this--"

"YESyesyes we do! You know why? Because you're--" she lowered her voice to a whisper, for which Camilo was grateful. "--in love with Mariano." She went back to a normal tone of voice immediately after. "And I have a duty to know every little secret about your feelings for him."

Camilo sighed, and indulged the child. "So, like...we were walking down a path in a meadow, I guess--"

"Uh huh uh huh. And?"

"And, umm, we turned to each other, and I said..."

"You said?"

"I...I said, will you marry me?"

"And what did he say?"

Camilo groaned. "He said, 'No, I am sorry, but I will not marry you, and I cannot marry you, because you're a teenager and I'm a grown man. Also, I love your sister.' And then I woke up and realized that my love for him could never truly be fulfilled because of the age difference and the fact that I'm not legally an adult yet and decided to move on with my life the end NOW WILL YOU GET OUT?!?!?!?!"

"Wait!" Mirabel stammered as Camilo lifted her off the bed and pushed her from behind through the funhouse mirrors and in the direction of the door. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't know you felt this bad about it. Look, I can help!"

Good thing she spoke up just then, because she was right in front of the door. Camilo stopped. "And that idea would be--?"

"To get over him. Look, there's this girl I think you would really like, her name is--"

"Not Happening." Camilo swung open the door, shoved her out, and slammed it behind him. Mirabel reached for the doorknob, but it sensed her presence even before she touched it and manifested out of existence. She gasped as if this was the first time this had happened. Although, technically it was the first time it was done to her. Camilo pressed his back against the inside of the door and let himself slide to the floor. He felt emotionally drained, even more so than usual. And the ringing in his head was back, only louder, because Mirabel was banging on the door on the other side, hooting and hollering.

"Camilo! Just listen to me! I'm really sorry about what I said! Look, you can take your time and sort your feelings out, okay?" When Camilo didn't answer, she sighed. "But I thought you might want to replace Isabela's hair dye with shaving cream in her sleep." Camilo still didn't answer, though he was on the verge of throwing open the door and screaming at her to stop being immature and leave him in peace. He just didn't want to hurt his head more so than he already did. So he closed his eyes and tried zoning out, and soon enough, Mirabel groaned and walked away.

Why did his room have to be structured the way it was? He wondered this as he stared dazedly at the endless wonky reflections that seperated him and his door from his bed. He wanted to get up and go there, it looked so comfortable. But he was too tired, everything around him was moving far too much, his stomach was growling like crazy, and the next thing he had remembered that day was lying in his bed as Julieta complained that he was incapable of swallowing anything and Pepa and Felix and Agustin fretted over him. Apparently hours had passed.

Now he was going to see him again. He was indeed so excited, but as Isabela, who was no longer señorita perfecta and was actually going out of her way to have bad hair days and didn't actually want to marry Mariano, he was forced to hide it. Then again, even if he was appearing at dinner as Camilo, he would still have to hide it lest Mirabel got hyper again. And embarrassed him. Again.

"Not excited, necessarily," he shrugged. "But happy to see him nonetheless, not to mention excited to get to know him without that pedestal in the way."

Mirabel laughed, and Camilo laughed too, even though he didn't realize what was so funny.

He decided to tell Mirabel what she wanted to hear. "You know, it really must be nice to not have your future set out for you beforehand. And to never have had that pressure. I mean, I know you still had pressure too, but--I'm just saying it must be nice, that's all." He smiled. "I would trade places." That's how Isabela talked, right?

Mirabel smiled. "I wouldn't."

They both laughed once again, Mirabel because she found it funny, and Camilo because he was relieved that his disguise was currently successfully flying under the radar.

They got to the dinner table, and Camilo's heart did pancake flips in his chest as Mariano entered with Dolores.
He was so handsome, with his radiant autumn brown skin, his illuminating and sultry deep brown eyes that put the stars to shame, his chiseled jawline, his adorably bushy mustache that Camilo was just longing to gently stroke his fingers through, caressing his handsome and flawlessly sculpted face. He was sure Mariano's skin felt smooth, buttery, warm, soft, and sexy. Just like he himself was. Before he knew it he was lost in thought, thoughts of all the romantic and intimate things he could do to Mariano if only they were the same age...

"Señor Guzman!" Abuela's loud cheer broke Camilo out of his funk. A good thing, too, since he would probably break his Isabela mask if he let it show that he was catching feels. The matriarch made her way towards the happy couple and embraced them both lovingly. "And Dolores. Welcome! Good to see you're still planning on becoming a part of la familia Madrigal!"

"Abuela!" Dolores hissed, embarrassed, and Camilo wondered why she was so ashamed. If he were in that situation, he would be proud of the position he was in. But Isabela wouldn't be, so he said nothing.

Abuela laughed, waving a hand jokingly. "I'm just teasing. Now, let's help ourselves to dinner!"

Mariano, however, looked around, confused. "Where's Camilo?"

Camilo rubbed Isabela's nose to hide his giddy grin. Mariano was actually looking for him? Mariano actually cared about him? He set the words "Where's Camilo?", uttered in a smolderingly handsome voice, to cycle on and on endlessly in his head, then stored it as a private recording in his mind for later. Then he could lull himself to sleep with it.

Abuela turned to look at him. "Isabela, could you go fetch your cousin, please?"

"Of course, Abuela." He turned and walked up the stairs.

"Excuse me," he heard Dolores mutter from inside, as well as a peck on a cheek. And yet he couldn't bring himself to feel the normal pang of jealousy that he usually did when one of his female family members was affectionate with Mariano. Because he was too busy being afraid that his cover would be blown.
And he was right.

Dolores showed up out of nowhere and confronted him in the dark, seeing through his mask. "Where is Isabela, Camilo?"

Camilo stammered. "Sh-sh-she couldn't come?"

"Why?"

"Because she was too tired. She overslept. So I'm covering for her."

"Then why did I hear her alarm clock being scaled?" Dolores fixed him with a glare, making him swallow bile before he had even started eating yet. "I'm going to check up on her."

"No!" He followed her frantically up the stairs, unconsciously dropping his Isabela disguise as he did so.

"You can't stop me!" Dolores shoved him aside as he stumbled and almost fell, and kept walking.

"I--I set her alarm back...because she had set it too late! I was fixing it for her! Please, Lola, you gotta believe me! You just gotta!" And now for the trick that always works: he gave her the puppy eyes. Camilo secretly took pride in his Machiavellian abilities.

Dolores groaned and rolled her eyes. "Oh, you know I can't resist the puppy dog eyes. Come on, let's go eat, you big log."

"Yay! You're the bestest big sister ever!" Camilo jumped up as he wrapped a hug around Dolores' torso and arms and kissed her on the left cheek.

"I know."

Camilo let go, stood in front of her, and transformed into Isabela right before her very eyes. And despite having seen this for years, Dolores still jumped even the tiniest bit.

"You're a freak." she said as she followed him down the stairs.

"I know," he grinned, but deep down, his heart pierced to know that this was how his older sister thought of him. And the worst part was that he couldn't disagree. Because she was right. He was a freak. Just not in the way that she thought.

Meanwhile, what Camilo didn't notice was the suspicious glare Dolores gave him from the back of "Isabela's" head.

"Sorry, Camilo couldn't come," Camilo said through Isabela's mouth. "He's...asleep."

"I checked up on him, too," Dolores effortlessly lied. "He was a bit under the weather, so he's getting some rest."

"Oh," Mariano mumbled as his voice wavered. He looked down at the floor sadly and shuffled awkwardly. Camilo felt the heat rising on his face once again. He'd never been more grateful to have Isabela's pretty morena complexion. "I...had to ask him something."

Camilo resisted the urge to giggle the way Mirabel did when her current girlfriend asked her out for the first time.

"What is it, mi amor?" Dolores asked as he wrapped her arms amorously around Mariano and leaned her head on his shoulder. The height difference, much less the sight alone, only infuriatingly reminded Camilo of the love that could never be. Dolores knew he wasn't Isabela and would never act this petty towards her female cousin and friend. Was she doing this on purpose? He felt a sinking sense of doom in his stomach as he realized that Dolores must have heard him confess his passionate romantic feelings for the man she too had feelings for. What if this was her way of protecting her territory? Not that she needed to, anyway; Dolores already had the man and the ring, and Mariano would never look twice at a mangy little stick of an adolescent such as himself.

Mariano smiled worriedly. "Oh, it's...nothing. Just--guy stuff--private."

"You can tell me!" Camilo jumped on the balls of his feet and raised his hand in the air.

Everyone looked at him weirdly. Her hand. Crap. He lowered it sheepishly and giggled. "And then I could tell Camilo." he whispered.

Mariano gazed at him for a second, and Camilo burned with the knowledge that he had Mariano's attention. "Okay," he said, and nodded.

Camilo's heart soared. As he smoothed out his skirt--boy was it fun to wear skirts and pretend to be a girl!--to sit down at the dinner table, he played what he was sure the confession was sure to be over and over inside his head.

"What was it that you wanted to tell me, mi cielo?"

"Well, uh, you see, this has been very difficult for me to own up to, but the truth is...I don't love Dolores. I would much rather be...with you!"

*gasp!* "Conmigo?"

"Si, colita bonita. I am madly in love with you!"

"Really?"

"Yes!"

"Well, I will have your hand in marriage, too."

"Oh, that is just so splendid, mi amor! KISS ME!"

But just as they were both leaning in to do just that, a hand nudged him.

It was Mirabel. "The vegetables, por favor?"

"Sorry." Camilo passed her the tub of lettuce.

Mirabel took it. "Gracias. Isabela, you're really out of it, today. Is something going on?"

Camilo sighed. Even in his spontaneous bouts of fantasy, he would never get to experience the wondrous sensation of Mariano's lips against his own. But of course he couldn't tell Mirabel that.

Mirabel's eyes widened. She gasped as she had an idea. Camilo didn't like it when Mirabel had ideas. At least, not these kinds. She leaned up to whisper in Camilo's ear. "Could it be that you're actually wishing you could still marry Mariano?"

Camilo nudged her as she clomped back down, as he knew exactly what Isabela would say. "Are you crazy? He's a big dumb hunk, remember?" Camilo remembered overhearing Mirabel say that once, and found it funny. He wouldn't doubt that she said it to Isabela herself at some point, though he wasn't sure on what occasion she would. "I could never marry someone like that...handsome as he may be."

"Oh." Mirabel turned back to her plate and forked around with her food. "I'm sure Camilo would disagree with that."

Camilo's head shot up as quickly as it had lowered to eat his food. "What?" he pressed indignantly.

"Well, not the second part, but definitely the first part," she spelled out carelessly.

Camilo's eyes shifted. Mirabel was under the impression that this was Isabela she was talking to. And yet here she was, spilling his secret crush to someone who, as far as she was concerned, wasn't supposed to know.

"What first part?" He gave her a chance to fix her mistake.

"Well, Camilo kinda...you know what, it's actually not important." She stuffed her mouth with food in an attempt to keep herself quiet. Camilo was indignant.

He had half a mind to just transform back into himself and see the look on Mirabel's face when she accidentally revealed his secret. And then box her upside the head. Instead, he turned away to keep eating as he focused on something--anything else--to calm his nerves. Unfortunately, this didn't work.

His father was using a knife to cut his vegetables, and Camilo had a chilling urge to take the knife and use it to pierce open his own skin. Oh no. He felt the thoughts creeping up again. He used to think he could keep them at bay, but now he wasn't so sure. Damnit. This was why he was afraid of knives. He tried with all his might to bury the thoughts as he shoveled morsels of food into Isabela's mouth, but to no avail. His father put down the knife, and Camilo was using all of his mental energy to drown out the voice in his head telling him to pick it up, to press it to his innermost forearms, and peel open his delicate flesh, to squeeze down with the blade until thick crimson liquid oozed out like a cranberry jelly packet, the sharp point sawing its way into his bloodstream and killing his cells. With everybody watching. With Mariano watching.

He couldn't, he told himself. But he could.

Do it, his own voice murmured inside his head, slowly growing louder as his veins felt too big for his body. Go on. Take that knife and cut yourself open. And don't stop doing it until you're dead. Just do it. They all want you to. And nobody would miss you if you did.

But Isabela would never do that. Camilo looked up at the knife one more time. But his internal ramblings of self-hatred were brought to a screeching halt when he felt a firm hand grip his shoulder as he found himself being forced to turn around. He gasped. If he had been paying attention, he would've noticed that everyone else had slowly stopped talking, and now he knew why.

Because in front of him was Isabela.

"Camilo! What do you think you're doing?!"

Camilo gulped. Everyone looked around at him, stunned. Camilo knew he was already busted, but he maintained his impersonation of his eldest cousin. He wasn't about to give up now.

"What do you mean, what am I doing? You're the one who shapeshifted into me after coming to dinner an hour late, Camilo? Wanna explain that--"

"I WAS ASLEEP! FOR THREE HOURS STRAIGHT! WHEN I SHOULD HAVE BEEN UP AN HOUR AGO!" Isabela hollered, her fury interrupting Camilo's lame excuse for copying her. "BECAUSE YOU THOUGHT IT WOULD BE FUNNY TO SET MY ALARM CLOCK BACK?!?!?! TO MESS UP MY SLEEP SCHEDULE?!?!! Tell me why you thought that was a smart thing to do, Camilo? I wanna hear you fess up, right now!"

Camilo noticed Dolores standing not too far off from the stairway which Isabela had descended from to come to dinner. They locked eyes with each other, and she gave him a dirty look before making her way back to her table to sit next to Mariano. Worse yet, she placed a hand over his as she continued eating, like nothing had happened, even though everyone else was watching the freakshow before them. He felt his blood boil at the sight. Dolores was never on his side. She had only pretended to be so that he would be none the wiser to her sneaking upstairs to tattletale on him not too long after. And she knew. She knew about his feelings for Mariano. That's why she was playing up the whole "we're a couple and we're in love!" thing. To quietly rub it in his face that they were together, that Mariano loved her and not. That he was not his and never would be. Treacherous snake. This is the thanks he received for comforting her sobbing ass literally for the past months.

Reluctantly, he brought himself back to his regular form. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mirabel's eyes expand to the size of saucers. She blinked rapidly, and turned away from him. "Oh no," she mumbled. "I should have known. I messed up."

That's right you did. Camilo didn't even pay her any mind.

"I-I'm...I didn't mean anything by it. I just thought...you needed the extra sleep. That's a--"

"I've had it up to here--" Isabela held up her hand with her index finger and thumb close together, almost touching. "--with your tricks and lies, Camilo! It's one thing to be mischievous and a jokester. It's another to do--this...this is outright malicious!" Isabela glanced at Dolores for a second as a second realization slowly dawned on her. "And then you had the nerve to lie to Dolores, too?" Dolores looked up briefly at the sound of her name, then went back to mumbling to Mariano as she had been doing before. "You should be ashamed of yourself, Camilo! You don't just owe me an apology, you owe your sister one, too!"

Camilo didn't feel like even sneezing on Dolores, but Isabela was glaring at him so fiercely and so was the rest of the family--minus Mirabel and Dolores, of course--that he felt like he had no choice. "I-I'm...s-sorry, Dolores."

Dolores didn't even look up, only mumbled "Mmmhmm."

Camilo snorted. This was the thanks he got for humiliating himself.

"I'm waiting!"

Camilo turned to her. Oh right. She expected an apology too, for some reason.

"Waiting for what?" he snarked aggressively.

Isabela growled, fingers curled in a way that to Camilo looked rather feral, and he feared that he was going to be pounced on and eaten alive by a creature more dangerous and vile than Antonio's jaguar. But Felix saved his ass by clearing his throat.

"Look, we can deal with accountability after." his father said. "How about you two deal with this little issue...after we eat our dinner?"

But as usual, Isabela wasn't listening. Her eyes were glued to Camilo's face. "What the--is that my makeup?" She grabbed his face by both cheeks with only one hand, and pulled his face closer, scrutinizing every flaw that he knew she would find. And all in front of Mariano, no less. He was scared that she would spit.

"It is!" But how? How could she tell?

Enraged, she reached over with her forearm to erase the powder, the blush, the mascara, everything Camilo had applied to enhance his physical appearance.

But Camilo pulled away. "All right! Are you done yet? I'm sorry, all right? I'm sorry! You're overdoing it at this point!"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to go into my room?!" Isabela snarled menacingly. "And maybe if you knew your..." He could tell she wanted to curse just then. "...hrrgh...place, I wouldn't have to go this far!"

She wasn't paying attention. Everyone knew Isabela was one-track minded. Camilo got up from the table and didn't even bother to clean up after himself or push in his chair, he had almost finished eating anyway. Shoving past Isabela, he ran out of the room and headed to the bathroom. The itchy, nasty sensation was back. But that's just how it is, right? When you eat too much, you have to puke it up.

He heard his family chattering as he left, some asking Isabela if she had to be so harsh, others wondering why Camilo seemed to have to go out of his way to bother the one person who least wanted to be bothered. Mirabel was the only one who didn't say a word.

Camilo rinsed out his mouth and used mouthwash to freshen his breath and cleanse his tongue from the taste of barf and regurgitation. He brushed his teeth two, three, four, five, eight times. He cleaned the toiled for infinity, as well as the floor, doing away with the chunks that had dropped beforehand. Spraying the bathroom with air freshener, he hoped that no one would notice the stench. As he left, he noticed Mariano coming up the steps and searching the place with his eyes.

His heart skipped several beats and he almost tripped back into the bathroom. How does one do that?

Mariano looked up at him just in time. "Camilo! Gracias a Dios! I was looking for you!"

Camilo's wobbly knees somehow traveled him over to where Mariano stood. He realized that before he knew it he was right in front of his love. How did he get there so fast?

"F-for me? I--well. Umm. That's nice. You know, I was l-looking for you t-too. Wh-what is it?" he giggled a little too loudly at his own non-joke. He knew he was the color of a ripened tomato and that his pulse was rapidly palpitating in his ears, but he didn't care. Damnit, Camilo, compose yourself!

"I...I have a secret to tell you, but no one can know what it is."

Camilo was ecstatic. He was on Cloud Nine! His beloved Mariano actually trusted him with a confidential secret? He replayed his fantasy in his head, giddy with glee that it was so close to coming true!

"A guy secret?" he damn near panted with desperation, just itching to hear what the man of his dreams had to say.

Mariano chuckled. He had such a handsome, charming laugh. Camilo remembered yet another reason he had fallen in love with this man. He was so nice, so easy to talk to. And he didn't think too highly of himself either. "I guess," he settled upon at last.

Mariano pulled out a piece of paper. He scribbled something down on it. Camilo peered over to see, but Mariano turned so that it was out of his vision. The younger boy pouted.

Then he finally got to see the note. He had an uneasy feeling about this, but pushed it to the side the same way he had pushed aside his intrusive thoughts earlier. The note said "So long as Dolores doesn't know. That's why I'm writing this. I want it to be a surprise for her."

Camilo gulped, praying that it went unheard by the older man. He waited for Mariano to continue writing. "You don't want Dolores to know--"

"Shhh!" Mariano hissed, his finger to his lips. Camilo felt ashamed of himself for letting his petty jealousy get the best of him and turn him malicious. What was he even thinking?

Mariano flipped over the paper and continued writing. And when he did at last show it to Camilo:

"I want to plan a proposal to Dolores. I'm asking you to help, because you're her younger brother, and probably know what she'd like."

His heart sank and crumbled. No. This couldn't be. But it was. Why was he living in denial? He should've seen these things coming. He took a deep, slow, and heavy breath.

Mariano noticed the obvious change in his temperament and looked at him with concern. "Camilo? Are you okay?"

Camilo shuddered. Was it just him, or was it cold in here? "I'm...I don't know, man. Dolores never talks about that stuff."

"Oh. She doesn't?"

"No. Like, ever. I'm sorry. I wish I could be of more help to you here, but I can't. S-sorry."

Mariano placed his pen in his shirt pocket, folded up the note, and smiled at him. "It's no worry, Camilo. I'll just ask Isabela for help instead."

Camilo nodded. "Yeah, you should do that. You know, the two are very close. She'd be of much more help." He prayed that Mariano didn't notice the waver in his voice. The venom that made itself known when he talked about Isabela. He prayed that this didn't make Mariano think less of him.

"Thank you anyway." Then, the unexpected happened. Mariano's big, strong arms grabbed Camilo by the shoulderblades and lured him in. Wrapping themselves around him, Camilo felt himself at a loss for breath. He was in heaven. Mariano had just given him a hug.

"I love you, Camilo."

"I love you, too, Mariano!" Camilo chirped, all too eager to reciprocate.

Mariano finally pulled away, and laughed, although not rudely, at his outburst. "Great! Then I see that we will be great brothers-in-law, no?"

Oh right.

Camilo forced the most plastic of grins onto the lower half of his face, and sewed it on tight. He remembered the cute dolls Mirabel and him used to play with when they were little, that now as a teenager unnerved him. He was certain they were possessed. He imagined he looked like them right about now. "Yes yes yes. Of course. Since, you know, you're ma--"

"Shhh!" Mariano hushed him again, and they both laughed, Mariano seeming to find it an inside joke.

"Yup, I almost forgot. The guy thing." Camilo blinked profusely, feeling the tears about to spill. Oh come on, not again! "Well, good luck with...it. Sorry about tonight, by the way." He turned to go. He couldn't bear to continue looking at, much less being around, what he could not have, what would forever be out of his reach, what he wanted so badly, but would never gain. His room was just a walk away.

"No worries. And I'll try my best to make it work. Bye!" His handsome should-be husband waved at him and turned towards the steps. Just before closing the door to his room, he heard Mariano's voice at the doorsteps. "Why not? Of course I love him! He's my future brother-in-law!"

"I know that," Dolores was saying softly. "But the thing is, he--"

Camilo slammed the door and stomped across his room to where he slept. He noticed his vanity and pink swivel chair. Angrily, he kicked the chair so hard that it flew across the room and banged itself against the wall, before at last falling over, busted and damaged. He swept everything off of his counter--the makeup that wasn't his(and it being Isabela's made him happy to ruin it), the ugly figurine that Mirabel had made for and modeled after him, the dice he used to play with that he got on his fourteenth birthday, the jewelry he got for his thirteeth birthday, his sock and buskin, his football trophy, his trinket box, his teddy bear, everything flew and spilled onto the floor.

His rage knew no bounds. He kicked over the vanity counter and watched it tumble with a loud thump that echoed through his ears, threatening to make him keel over. He stomped on the sock and buskin until he felt them crumble and split under his chanclas, and he imagined that if they had come to life, they would both be wearing the same tragedy expression as they asked him what it was they did wrong to deserve being on the receiving end of his brutality. And all he would have to say is, I could ask Isabela the same fucking thing. He picked up the trinket box and threw it at the mirror that was lying on the ground below him, the only mirror that was actually useful, and watched them crash into each other like a wreck in traffic, in splinters and rough, split edges that distorted his hideous reflection, shards of glass spread across the ground like...

There were sharp objects in Camilo's room. All the better to cut himself with.

Camilo ran through the funhouse forest and threw open the door in a frenzy. He ran to Mirabel's room, slamming his entire body into the door frame as he barged his way in.

Mirabel, who had been looking for something in her drawer, sprung up as Camilo intruded.

"MIRABEL!"

Mirabel held out her hands in defense. "Camilo, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to tell!"

Camilo's animalistic fury came to a pause just then. "What?"

"Look, I didn't know you weren't Isabela, I never should've opened my big loud mouth, because what if it had really been Isabela? It wasn't right of me to spill your secret like that. Your crush is your business, I was supposed to be somebody you can trust, and--" She paused to sniffle. "Yeah, I get excited over things like this and the fact that I know them, but at the same time..." She bowed her head and sat down on her bed with a slump. "You deserve better, Milo. You deserve a better friend than me."

The number one thing that pained Camilo's heart wasn't his chronic starvation, nor his complete and utter loss of identity, nor was it even the fact that he would never hold Mariano in his arms. The most painful thing Camilo faced and never ever wanted to see again was...the sight of his beloved cousin Mirabel in tears.

Damnit. They couldn't both be crying. So Camilo had to put his feelings aside at the moment and comfort Mirabel. Forcing his tears back, he gently made his way and sat down on the bed next to her. "I'm not mad." She looked up at him, almost doubting. "I mean, I was before, but...I'm not anymore." To be honest, all of his rage was reserved for Isabela and Dolores at the moment. Mirabel's crime was the least of his worries. And even then, he was probably overreacting. Would Isabela have caught on if it was actually her? Nobody would imagine that the fifteen-year-old boy who never expressed romantic or sexual attraction openly to anyone, and definitely not his family, would fall in love with the big dumb hunk of the town. Nobody but Mirabel, who, like Camilo, was attracted to guys as well as girls. Even though, to Camilo, Mariano was more than just a dummy. Writing down his plans to--actually, Camilo didn't want to think about that--was actually a very smart thing to do. Camilo hated to remember all the times when he had busted himself just by opening his mouth to speak below a whisper. Those were not fun.

"You made a mistake, but hey, we all do. Even me. Especially me." He tucked a curl behind her ear and kissed her on the forehead. "You did nothing wrong, Mira. If anything, I'm the one who shouldn't have spilled. I know how you...get, about romance."

"Awww," Mirabel pouted, voice still wobbly. It was times like these when Camilo remembered that she was the younger one out of the two, and just how cute and precious she was. He needed to protect that at all costs. "Well, I'm glad you did, anyway."

"Of course you are." Camilo laughed. "See? I told you."

Mirabel kissed Camilo on the cheek. "Thanks, Cami."

Camilo smiled, and let Mirabel cry in his arms for a while. He could sob about his unrequited love and struggle to pick up the missing pieces of glass later. Right now he was cheering up Mirabel. "Anyway...do you wanna maybe...what was it you wanted to do with Isabela's hair dye?"

Mirabel smiled mischievously. "Oh yeah! Let's go do that!"

They snickered as they skittered over to Isabela's bedroom, and Camilo felt all too gleeful at the chance to mess with Isabela once again and pay her back for humiliating her at dinner.

You never learn, a voice in his head snarked, but for once Camilo shut it out, ignored it. He couldn't wait to see the look on Isabela's face when their diabolical plan was complete.

Chapter Text

Isabela's POV:

"I predict that in five years or so, give or take two, this book will be a bestseller."

Mirabel's eyes widened as she eyed her older cousin in awe. "Really?"

"Yes, really!" Camilo proclaimed, flipping his hair. How pathetic. He barely even had any hair to flip. "I mean, this is a topic of interest that everybody will want to read about. Nobody's gonna wanna miss it. Would you wanna miss it? I sure wouldn't wanna miss it."

"What's the book called?" Mirabel questioned genuinely.

Isabela felt a blood clot in her brain. She knew this had something to do with her, but she wasn't sure what. "You know, I just don't remember," Camilo was saying in a pretentiously mourning tone of voice, intentionally raising it to be within Isabela's earshot. "All I know is that a certain somebody went to the town's publishers and asked for this story of theirs to become a novel. They certainly blessed us with thier astounding literary skills, wouldn't you say so, Mira?"

"Well, no, but only because I haven't read it yet." Mirabel shrugged. "But I guess I'll take your word for it, Cami."

"As you should. Oh wait, I just remembered. I have a copy of it on me right now!" He pulled out a paperback from under his ruana. Isabela didn't even question it at this point. But what she did question was the design of this particular book. A soft lilac-colored background, with illustrations of flowers...pink flowers?

Mirabel squinted at the cover, and Isabela instantly knew she was in trouble. "Wait, since when were you a writer, Isa?"

Isabela was, at this point, beyond enraged.

"I know, right?" Camilo hollered, and as Isabela stormed over in a furious frenzy, he fell off the chair he was sitting on entirely, and was, quite literally, rolling on the floor, clutching his stomach, red-faced, at a loss for air, and in the wildest laughing hysterics that the sisters had ever seen.

"LET ME SEE THAT!" Isabela roared, snatching the book out of Mirabel's hands and glaring at it, knuckles whitening as she gripped the spine tighter in rage and confusion. "Da fuck is this? La Princesa del Encanto: Una Memoria? 'Por Isabela Madrigal'? I never wrote this! This is a fraud account of my life!"

"A-are--" Camilo coughed, and Isabela rolled her eyes, tears forming in Camilo's own. "Are you sure?"

Isabela flipped over the book to read the back cover. In large green print, at the top, were the words "I have to do what my family wants for me. But is it really what I want for myself?" Huh. That quote sounded familiar. It couldn't be. She read the rest of the blurb, which was written in a smaller, white font: "The story of Doña Alma's eldest granddaughter as you've never seen her before! What else don't we know about the town beauty?"

She opened the book and flipped through the pages. She finally came across a page that she could read out loud. It said, "I didn't mean to yell at Mirabel, but I couldn't help it. Before I knew it, I was ranting and raging at her at the top of my lungs, releasing my inner turmoil as my dissatisfaction with my life was unraveling like a rolling ball of yarn. I told her everything. My struggle to achieve perfection, my hidden resentment for the standards my Abuela set up that I knew I could never meet, my irritation at her for having everything so much easier and yet still managing to get in my way, and finally, my deepest, most forbidden secret: my lack of willingness to marry Mariano. And at that last statement, a cactus sprung from the endless monotonous fields of bright pink may lilies."

"I didn't know you were a poet!" Camilo snickered with a smirk.

Mirabel just looked downtrodden. "Umm, Isa, you don't...you don't actually think that of me still, do...you...? Because, I thought we made up, because then we sang that song and...and then..."

"Of course not, Mirabel," Isa interrupted, half genuine and half just more concerned with getting to the bottom of this. She flipped through the book some more, and to her horror, she recognized each and every one of the entries woven into the pages. Her betrothal to Mariano, her hooking him up with her beloved cousin Dolores, her loss of magic as she and Camilo raced for the candle, the perfect poses she practiced...it was all coming back to her now.

She slammed the book back on the table, picked up a still floored and hysterical Camilo by his ear, and dragged him out of the room and onto the patio.

Camilo snickered and snorted some more! He didn't even look sorry about what he did! He was just having the time of his life watching Isabela be stressed out, undignified, and miserable. "What?" he droned.

"You know...EXACTLY WHAT IS GOING ON!!!!" Isa shoved the open book in his face. "WHY THE FUCK...would you publish these entries? My diary entries?! Got an explanation for that, Camilito?" She made sure to pronounce his cutesy nickname in as demeaning, bitter, and infantilizing a tone as possible, to make sure it got through his thick skull(because SOMETHING needed to get through) that she was being sarcastic, as she waited for an answer.

But Camilo only giggled and grinned. "What do you mean? I didn't know it was your diary! I just thought it was a really good book--that's all!"

"Even though it was handwritten?!"

"Eep--yes."

"Ok then, smart boy. Since you insist on lying to get your way, I'm just going to have to ask Dolores."

"No!" Camilo knew how close Dolores and Isabela are, and reached frantically for her hand when Isabela walked back towards the door that led inside, but Isabela only roughly slapped his hand away.

"Then TELL ME. What. HAPPENED."

Camilo groaned, looked down, and shuffled his feet. "Umm, well, I can't because I wasn't there when it happ--"

"I'm asking Dolores," Isabela asserted, and she didn't even wait for a response from the little shit as she walked back inside and to Dolores' room.

Mirabel had taken out her sewing needles and yarn as she waited for her sister and cousin to get back, having lost herself in the art of needlework. So imagine her surprise when the two came storming in from out the back porch, Isabela stomping as she covered her ears and loudly yelled "LALALALAA I DON'T CARE, I'M GOING TO ASK ANYWAY!!!" and Camilo hollering over her "DON'T ASK SHE DOESN'T HAVE THE TIME SHE'S TOO BUSY LISTENING TO OTHER STUFF!!!" Over and over and over again.

Mirabel just shrugged and went back to sewing.

Camilo was virtually crying at this point, and they weren't tears of laughter. "Isa...please...I'm begging you."

"DO NOT call me Isa!" Isa barked back. They made it to Dolores' door, and Isa stood there, ready to knock, as her baby cousin looked on in horror. "Any last words before your life of crime is over?"

But Camilo as usual refused to fess up.

"I thought not." Eyes still glued to Camilo, she knocked on the door.

Dolores opened it. "My switch was off and I heard everything going on downstairs. What's going on this time?" she asked, sounding exhausted.

"Well...I was just going to ask you about--" Isabela stomped over to Camilo and reached for the book. When Camilo turned his body so that Isabela couldn't grab it, she forced him to face her as he yet continued to wrestle, and finally pried the book from his hands. Camilo whimpered. "--this book."

Dolores examined it. She took the book from Isabela's hands. She looked at it. "La Princesa del Encanto? This sounds interesting! It's...about you?"

"Yeah, it's my diary that he published!"

"Wait, why? You let him publish it?"

"Yes!" Camilo spat out, eager to avert attention from what he did.

"No! How could I? He went behind my back and did it without my permission! I was just wondering if you knew anything about it."

"Well...actually, I did see what looked like you approaching the town publishers with something in your hands. From where I was standing, I couldn't see what it was. I guess looking back on it they went along with it because they thought you were the one who gave it to them to publish."

"That's what I saw, too," Camilo conveniently agreed.

"Shut up, Camilo," Isabela barked, and Camilo backed down.

"Well, it was actually Camilo who shapeshifted into me and published this diary of mine!"

"Wait, really?"

"Yes! Really!"

"...Wow. Camilo, why would you do that?"

"I-I didn't!"

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Camilo hyperventilated, as he looked from Isabela, to Dolores, to Isabela, to Dolores, to Isabela, and then to Dolores again. With four eyes on him, boring into his soul and scavenging his heart for the truth behind his crime, he finally gave in, albeit indirectly!

"Ugh!" He stomped his feet. "It was just a joke! You girls are too serious! You don't know how to have fun! I didn't mean anything by it! I didn't know they were gonna go through with it! Why do you two have to be so--" He grabbed his hair as he scrambled for the words. "So...damn...UGH!" Isabela and Dolores only giggled at this. Turning to each other, the edges of their mouths curled up deviously as their cheeks rose up before they finally just openly started laughing at the little boy.

"So you admit you did it then!" Isabela boasted with satisfaction.

"Of course he did, what did you expect, girl, come on," Dolores purred in agreement.

Camilo had enough of their grinning, mocking faces. With his fists balled up and his knuckles whitening, he moved closer to Dolores, who merely snorted at his imagined bravery. "I don't know what Mariano sees in you! You don't deserve him!"

Dolores' smile vanished just as fast as it had appeared. Her eyes widened in shock at her brother's brazen display of audacity. Camilo's face contorted itself into a horrific and almost caricaturist smirk, clearly taking great pleasure in seeing Dolores' face droop as her expression fell. Isabela didn't know it yet, but the truth was that Camilo was recalling all those nights he comforted her as she cried herself to sleep, wrapped around her like a chrysalis, a living tissue. And how irritated he was at having his feelings get brushed to the side, every day, all the time.

His rage erupted out of him like a volcano as he proceeded to dig an even deeper ditch.
"You're ugly, you're dumb, you're a priss, and you're fucking annoying, too! And a crybaby! You're even more emotional than Mami, if that's even possible! If he knew how pathetically desperate you were for him, if he could see the countless literal months you WASTED whining over something you couldn't have: 'Why doesn't he love me, Camilo? Why aren't I good enough? Why can't I get over him? Waah, waah, waah!' Trust me. He would run. And so would I if I were him! And so would any man! You think he actually sees anything in you? Ha!" He laughed haughtily and mirthlessly. "You're vapid and you're dull as a crayon, Dolores. The truth is, he's only using you as a rebound because Isabela turned down his proposal. He doesn't see anything in you, which is hardly a surprise because there's not anything worth seeing. At most, you're a pretty face to him--no, not even that! Because no matter how much makeup and earrings and chokers and bows you sloppily throw upon yourself to make yourself look as beautiful or as feminine as possible, you'll always be a hag deep inside. I do hope that one day Mariano comes to his senses and realizes what a pig who is utterly unworthy of love you are. I hope he realizes eventually that he can do so much better than--" he gestured generically at Dolores' direction. "--this."

Dolores opened her mouth to retort, but only the faintest of a squeak came out. Staring in horror, Camilo's glare made it clear that he wasn't at all the same good and kind person she used to know before. There was something dark lurking somewhere down there. Something eerie. Something null. Something empty. She felt the building that was her self-worth demolish as the wrecking ball that was her brother's words forced it to crumble.

Isabela stormed forward. "How DARE you talk to my cousin--YOUR SISTER--like that! She is beautiful and she deserves the world!" She placed a hand on Dolores' shoulder, but the glare aimed at Camilo still remained. "She is far more worthy of Mariano's love than I ever was!"

He glared furiously at her. "You know what, you're right. You didn't deserve him either! Shit, you're worse for him than Dolores is! He must have been blinded by your stinky flowers because that's the only way he'd ever choose you! I don't know why he wants or wanted to marry either of you! He deserves someone better! He deserves someone like--"

He suddenly paused as his breath hitched in his throat. He felt his head rotate ninety degrees, and the side of his face burned. Reaching to where the prickling sensation was felt, he gently grazed his apple-sized cheek with his finger, his blood threatening to pour out, as if he was some horror film slasher victim.

Dolores had just slapped him.

No words had been spoken for a few minutes, all three Madrigal grandchildren letting the dead air linger for what they perceived to be hours. It was as if they were frozen in place, and the world with them as it stopped turning, standing still with them as they took the time to process what was done.

But Isabela could hardly call herself mad. Looking at Dolores' red palm, which matched exactly the print on Camilo's fair-skinned face, the only emotion she felt that adequately described the situation was...catharsis. Dolores had had the ovaries to do what she wished she had thought of doing instead. Granted, if it were her she would've impaled his entire face with her good friend Proserpina, but sometimes the simpler solution--that didn't get you in trouble--was better. She fought the aggressive urge to smile, to clap her hands in applause for Dolores' bravery. But Dolores didn't look to be in a boastful mood.

Camilo's mouth wavered as his face continued to sting. He couldn't even touch it without the pain shooting through his brain as if to cut off all circulation, as if Luisa had slapped him instead. Finally, tears poked out of his eyes as he backed away from the older women, eyes still glued on Dolores' face as her angry features dared him to even try being sassy some more.

"I hate you," he venomously spat, before finally turning around, taking off, and running to his room. The last thing they heard was the loud "BOOM!" of his door being shut, and just like that, the dead air dissipated; the sequence of events that had just occurred caught up to them, as their world went back into orbit.

Dolores broke down to the floor and sobbed.

Just as quickly, Isabela bent down to comfort her. "I'm...I'm sorry, mi prima, don't believe a word that jackass said. It's not true. You're not a pig and you're not unworthy of love and you're not fugly! You have great fashion sense, better than me, I mean, look at me, I have tye-dye splattered all over my dress! You're smart, funny, and capable of anything! You could totally capture any guy's heart if you set your mind to it, and just because you like wearing makeup and jewels and other feminine stuff doensn't mean you're hiding any apparent 'ugliness'. Listen to me, Dolores." Dolores peeked up as Isabela clasped her hand in the latter's own and placed it over her heart. "You are perfect, just like this."

Dolores let out a quivering hum, and she quietly sniffled. "I know that, it's just that..." she let Isabela help her up as they made their way to her room. "Camilo was the only person I was able to confide in about...him. Back when you were still engaged with him, I showed my support outwardly, I wouldn't dare hate you, I never stopped being your friend. But on the inside...I was breaking, Isa." Finally inside the comfort of her room, she sat down on the bed, patting the mattress as a sign for Isa to join next to her, which she did. "I couldn't handle the fact that I didn't quite catch his eye. That I wasn't good enough. That I was in your shadow and always would be. No, scratch that, I was in your shadow's shadow. But there was no one to go to. Everyone congratulated you on...on winning his heart. I knew then that I could never compete. I even asked Abuela if she thought it was right for this proposal to happen, and she said yes and asked me what I had against a perfect family. I couldn't...I COULDN'T say no. It was only when Camilo saw me sulking and asked me if I was okay--he was the only one to ask me about my problems. To pick up on the fact that, no, not everything was okay...and I told him that. He said I could come to his room anytime if I wanted to talk. So I went at night...and I cried. I cried in his arms as if I were the younger sibling and he was the older, and...I am so ashamed of that. This happened for literal months. Until one day I came to his room, and he finally got irritated and..."

When she took too long to finish, Isabela spoke up at last. "And what?"

Dolores sighed. "I don't really...like...to dwell on that anymore. But to put it simply, he made it very clear that I wasn't welcome in his room to mope anymore...he finally got tired of it. And he...when I didn't move, he turned me around and shoved me out. And then I fell so hard that my nose and mouth both broke and bled. And the worst part was that I couldn't even bring myself to be mad at him. I mean, what was I thinking, burdening him with my feelings of woe? I was supposed to be stronger than him. I was supposed to be strong for him. Not the other way around. So, I dealt with it myself when I went to my own room. And cried alone."

"That's horrible." That ass. She grasped Dolores' hands. "Dolores, if I had known...if I had only known what you were going through, that it hurt you this bad, that your own brother...that prick...was this cruel to you. I would've done something about it earlier. Trust me when I say that I would've whooped some sense into that boy."

Dolores chuckled faintly at this, knowing it to be true. "It's my fault anyway. I'm the one who needs sense whooped into me."

"No!" Isabela lightly exclaimed, wrapping Dolores in a hug. "This is not your fault, Lola. Trust me. I will make him apologize. I'm good at that."

Dolores grinned into Isabela's shoulder. "But it's all good now, I guess." She broke the hug so as to make eye contact with Isabela, and smiled. "I've got the man now, and I've got the ring, too. Guess that he's the one being left in the shadows now. It also explains his sketchy behavior. Because the truth is, I never would've understood his train of thought until I heard him talking with Mirabel and he said...actually, it's not my right to say." She stretched out her body to lie down on the bed mattress. "If you want to go drill into him, that's fine. But I'm going to go get some rest." She closed her eyes peacefully, and Isabela found herself politely dismissed.

Which was just fine by her, really. She had something she needed to do, anyway.

She crossed the hall to Camilo's room, and knocked on the door. No knob.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not leaving until you open up."

And just like that, the doorknob reappeared. Funny how that worked.

Turning the knob, the door creaked to announce Isabela's arrival, as the tap of her sandals made themselves louder. Until finally she passed through the mirror maze and made it to Camilo's bed. There the little boy was, back facing the ceiling, face buried under a pillow as he gripped the soft edges with his hands, along with a single brown curl in one balled white fist, separate from the rest of his hair, having clearly been pulled out. His body heaved rapidly and sequentially, as if he was having a silent, muzzled panic attack, as he smothered himself to death. But Isabela had no time for his alligator tears. She hadn't brought any presents to this pity party.

"You sure do have a lot of nerve, don't you?" She spoke surely, calmly and quietly out of respect for Dolores and her need for sleep. "You have no scruples about other people's feelings and never have, now have you? What happened to empathy and kindne--"

"Shut up."

"Don't TELL me to shut up. You are NOT gonna disrespect me OR Dolores ever again, or anyone else in this family for that matter."

"I said SHUT UP!!!" Camilo rose with fury from the position he had been lying in in his bed, and if Isabela actually gave a shit, she would've jumped, startled. But she remained tranquil and unwavered, even when Camilo hurled his smothering pillow at Isabela, watching it get flung across the room, missing her by a hair. A thick green rope-like quality found its way around Camilo's wrists just then, and forced them behind the boy's back, pinning them firmly in place. Camilo grunted and gnashed, but it was no use, the vines were too strong.

Isabela stomped over to him, pressed her fingers onto the bed, and leaned in to Camilo's face. He scrunched it up as if he were resisting the urge to spit in hers. "You. Are going to apologize to Dolores. Not one person ever gave you ANY right to act that way or say the shit you said to her. She is your older sister and she is to be treated with respect."

"Shall I bow down and kiss her feet and call her 'Your Most Royal Highness' then?" Camilo snarked and snorted. "And who the fuck made you my mami?"

"I may not be your mami--"

"Exactly." Camilo wasn't listening. Isabela would make him listen.

"--but I know she didn't raise you to be a disrespectful fool. What would she say if she could see how you acted? To be fair, she could still know. I'll be right back." She got up and walked towards the exit. "In the meantime, you're staying like this."

"You can't do this to me!" Camilo growled.

"But look, I am!" Isabela grinned. "Have fun in your little jungle prison. I think I'll go...I dunno, check on Proserpina, and then maybe I'll visit a friend."

As she was starting to leave, a voice called out to her. "Wait."

She turned around. "Yes?"

Camilo gulped, swallowing his pride and any venom that risked leaking out. "I'm...sorry."

"Don't tell me, tell Dolores. She's the one who you hurt by your brutal and unnecessary words."

"I..." he hissed his teeth as Isabela started walking as if she wasn't even listening. "I would like to say sorry to her. Please?"

"Oh, that's just wonderful!" Isabela beamed brightly, clasping her palms together. "Just wait until she wakes up, and then you can make amends, all right?"

The vines stayed in place.

"What the--can't you wake her?"

"I'm not about to ruin her precious sleeping schedule. She deserves her beauty sleep." Isabela emphasizes the word "beauty", forming a direct contrast between Camilo's lies and the reality of how beautiful Dolores was. "Don't you think that's more important than anything you have to say to her?"

"But you said--!"

"While you wait, you can write it down. Oh right, I forgot." Isabela walked out the door. "Just wait until she wakes up, it won't take long! You're a patient boy, aren't you? See you around, buh-bye!" she waved girlishly and danced out the door, the nerve, as if she DIDN'T currently have him hostage, and as if she HADN'T just threatened him into submission.

The vines gripped tighter than ever, cutting off all blood circulation, until no more sensation could be felt in the fingers. Camilo bowed his head in shame and disappointment.

What had he done?

To be fair, Isabela wasn’t lying about watering Proserpina, she went to her room, fetched her watering pan, and went downstairs to water her. She was surprised to see that Mirabel wasn’t there. But then she remembered the embroidery Mirabel was working on. Most likely she had finished it and was going to deliver it to Yamilet. She watered her plants and went about the rest of her day, unaware and uncaring of the fact that Camilo was currently bawling in agonizing turmoil as his numb, sleeping hands felt like they were being asphyxiated. That wasn’t her problem. She would automatically release the vines when Dolores woke up. In the meantime, she had a certain special somebody to visit.

The second Isabela arrived at the house, she felt her face flush instantly as her palms grew moist. Why was she so nervous? It was just a quick little visit, right? To see somebody she cherished.

The door opened, and a Black woman with a green head wrap opened the door and smiled at her. “Greetings, Señorita Madrigal! Come on in!”

“Oh please, just call me Isabela,” she laughed lightheartedly in an attempt to dilute the explosive anxiety she was feeling, flicking her hand simultaneously. “Or, better yet, Isa! Everyone does.” Well, not everyone.

“If you wish, Se—Isabela.” She escorted Isabela graciously in, and Isabela took in the fragrant scent of freshly baked polvorosas cookies that welcomed her as she entered. “She’s been waiting for you.”

This made Isabela incredibly happy. If not for her dark skin, she would be the color of a hot ghost pepper right about now. Still, she tried to maintain her composure, seeing as it was the only right thing to do.

“I’ll get the plates, you go have a seat in the dining room table.” And with that final saying, the lady left. Isabela went into the dining room, and the moment she did, her heart skipped a beat, her eyes glowed, and her expression beamed.

There she was, pretty as a princess, if not more so, head bent over her handiwork as she laid the finishing touches. The butterfly sequins were certainly a work of art indeed, just like she was. Isabela could barely hide a smile as she walked over to the table and pulled out her chair as quietly as possible, lovingly taking in her luscious deep brown hair, her radiant ebony skin, her eyes that shone with passion and pride for her work. And the cute little pink ribbon she wore in her hair certainly wasn’t doing her any favors as she stared, and stared, and stared.

How could one girl be so pretty?

The girl at last breathed out a sigh of relief, as her work was at last complete. Looking up to see if her mother had arrived, she jumped startled as the sight of Isabela alarmed her. Too startled to notice the goofy grin and half-lidded eyes that made Isabela’s affection to her very, very clear.

“Hola, Monika.”

She grinned bashfully, and waved back.

Isabela smiled and giggled ever so slightly, though not enough for Monika to particularly pick up on. Just as slowly, her face converted to one of humiliation and shock, and she fumbled with her hands, scratching her cheek as she awkwardly tried to make conversation. “How…how are the designs coming along?”

Monika nodded her head, and picked one up, reaching over to drop them in Isabela’s hand. Isabela wondered if Monika felt the softness of their hands brushing against each other as this contact was made, or if she didn’t because, surprise surprise, Isabela was just delusional, imagining.

Isabela gasped at how beautiful it was, then looked up at Monika to see her smiling, waiting for approval. It was a deep shade of indigo, and tilting it to the side revealed its iridescence. Some parts glowed a bright orange, others pink, others green, others yellow, and others purple. Isabela resisted the urge to sigh.

It was a sight to behold. Just like Monika.

Isabela looked up. “Thank you!”

Monika mouthed you’re welcome in response.

“Cookies are ready!” Exclaimed a rich voice coming from the kitchen, as Monika’s mother arrived with the tray of polvorosas cookies.

"Ooh! Yum!" Isabela squealed before bowing her head in shame. "Whoops, my bad, I mean...thank you?"

But Señora Ortega only smiled and laughed.

It was only when Sra. Ortega sat down at the table did Isabela remember why she came in the first place, besides, well, the obvious.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I actually have some cookies myself that you might need, Monika!" She pulled out the polvorosas that Julieta had made. "It might help with your broken nose!"

She handed them to Monika, who smiled softly. Unwrapping the cookies, she took a huge bite—that girl’s appetite put Camilo’s to shame. And instantly her nose was cured. Tearing off the bandage with one hand, she beamed and continued feeding herself with the other.

Isabela didn’t think she had ever found her more adorable.

“Your mom is an excellent cook, Isa!” Sra. Ortega praised. “Better then me!”

Isabela laughed this off. “Don’t underestimate yourself, Sra. Her food simply has healing properties, that’s all!“

“I suppose so,” she replied. “So, how are you two ladies getting along?”

Isabela immediately got flustered upon hearing this. W-what? What did she mean by “getting along”? Surely they were friends, right? That’s all her mother could have meant! And yet she got the feeling that this was far from the truth. She didn’t even notice that Monika had the same expression as her.

Monika signed something to her mother frantically, that Isabela didn’t understand. She had to learn sign language if she wanted to communicate with her friend. Because that’s all Monika was, right? A friend and nothing more. And that’s what friends do. It’s not like Isabela got dizzy at the thought of Monika or anything, and it’s not like Monika’s touch or embrace made Isabela’s heart skip a beat. Nah. Nothing like that. This wasn’t like Dolores’ feelings for Mariano. This was strictly platonic.

Monika’s mother laughed at her daughters words. “Just friends? Are you sure? Yeah right. I see how you look at her, mija! Isn’t that right?” She turned to Isabela, who had a worried smile on her face. “My daughter brings you up all the time.” Monika slammed her face into the table in humiliation, wrapping her arms around her hair in an effort to drown out her mother’s words to herself. It kinda reminded Isabela of Camilo, only cute. She hoped Camilo’s prickly fingers were having fun.

But at the mention of the pins she made, Monika sprung up and nodded her head.

“That’s very nice of you, Monika!” Isabela smiled. Monika smiled back.

Sra. Ortega raised her hands in mock defeat. “Well, I won’t force you to admit anything either way, but I have eyes. I was a young lady in love before, I know what it looks like.”

Monika wrote down on paper, You’re basically trying to admit whatever you think it is for us. Isabela agreed.

“Well, I guess I am.”

“Do you have anything to say for yourself, mocoso?”

Camilo sighed and rolled his eyes. Noticing Isabela’s expression, he resisted the urge to bark at her. “Can you give us some privacy?”

“Why?”

Camilo felt a part of his body twitch. “Like, alone? For like three seconds? Dios mio.”

“I suppose so,” Isa turned around. “One. Two. Three.” She whipped back around just as fast. “All right! You still haven’t said you’re sorry! Now say you’re sorry, now!”

“Isabela!”

“Isa,” Dolores spoke gently. “For real this time. Please?”

It was only because of Dolores that Isabela finally heeled and left.

But she only went so far as outside, where she could still hear every word being uttered even without Dolores’ gift.

Camilo shuffled his feet. “Lola…I…Isa didn’t force me. I mean she did, but…I really did want to. Say. I’m. I’m. I’m…”

Dolores waited. No sass. No impatience. No suspicion. She simply waited.

“I know you don’t hold a grudge, and…I shouldn’t have said what I said. You’re so worthy of Mariano, it almost could make some people jealous. Way more worthy than…well, a certain someone I know.” Isabela wondered if this was a personal passive-aggressive attack against her. It better not be. But then again, who else could Camilo be referring to?

“And that’s why I’m…I’m sorry!” His voice wavered, and Isabela wanted to giggle at how childish and dramatic he was being. He was like if a five-year-old apologized for calling someone a big stupid butthead and thought this was the meanest of all insults. Only what Camilo said was far worse.

Dolores paused. “Aww, don’t cry,” she soothed as she pulled Camilo into a hug.

But Camilo shoved her away. “I’m not crying! Why would I be crying?” He sniffled and wiped his eyes.

But Dolores only smiled. “If we’re being honest, I’m gonna need some time to think about whether or not I accept this apology.”

“Can’t you think of it now?” Camilo asked.

“No. But when I do I’ll get back to you.” Isabela peeked to see her ruffling his feathers. “I promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

Dolores rolled her eyes. She hadn’t heard that since she was a preteen. But she complied with it anyway. “Pinky promise.”

“Thanks, Lola. I really do love you a lot, you know.”

“I know, Camilito. And I love you too. I’m…gonna go.” She walked out the door and into the living room. Crap! Isabela raced away, but Dolores caught up to her. “You just couldn’t resist, could you?”

“Umm, what?”

“Come on, Isa. You don’t need to surveillance him and hold a grudge.”

“But…he hurt you! What else could I do?”

“I know, and it’s good that you care, but all is better now. And I can’t believe you tied him up, mi prima! That’s going a little too far. Funny? Yes. But crossing the line nonetheless.”

“Umm, how did you know if you were asleep?”

“Well…” Dolores filled in the story for her.

A few hours or so later, Dolores opened herself up to the world, and the sun peeked into her eyelids, nearly blinding her with its radiance. She squeezed them shut before she sat up, going to brush her teeth. And immediately was deafened by the bone-chilling scream of her brother. Springing to her feet, the brushing could wait. She ran to Camilo’s room to see what was causing him such agonizing pain.

“Camilo? Why are you…tied by vines?” She dubiously questioned at the sight of him sitting on his knees in his bed, his hands cuffed behind his back. Although she already knew why.

Camilo bowed his head in shame, refusing to answer the question or even acknowledge Dolores’ existence.

“You and Isa are always getting into something crazy. Am I the only responsible one around here?” Dolores deadpanned, although she knew she could have her moments of wackiness as well. She tried to untangle the vines, but they were wrapped too tightly. “What’d she do this to you for?” she asked. Camilo again didn’t answer.

Dolores would’ve called attention to this, if not for the fact that Camilo’s hands were bone-white, the stringy veins popping out at her like snakes in the snow.

She pulled at one of his fingers and twisted it. Squeezed it. Wiggled it around. Then finally, she pinched it. And Camilo didn’t even wince at this.

“Cami, you didn’t feel that?”

Camilo shook his head.

“Okay,” Dolores turned so that she was facing Camilo, and he turned away, bowing his head. His lips wobbled. He was crying! Well, of course he was crying. Look what Isabela did to him!

His nose also twitched violently.

Dolores itched it. “There there, is that better?”

Camilo nodded, but his body still trembled.<

“Oh, poor baby,” Dolores kissed him on the head. “I would get Luisa to break through these vines, but she’s out. I’ll go get Tía Julieta instead. She has a knife that can cut it.”

Without waiting for an answer, Dolores spun on her heel and walked out the door, if she had turned around, she would’ve seen the horror that took over Camilo’s face as he shook his head rapidly. But it was too late. Dolores had already gone.

A few minutes later, Dolores came back with Julieta.

“Camilo, why are you tied up?”

“Isabela…” he hyperventilated.

“Calm down mi sobrino. Breathe. We’ll get you out.”

“I don’t remember how long I’ve been like this. I can’t feel my hands. It’s like someone cut them off but no blood spilled out.”

“Okay…let me get my kni—“

“NO!”

“Cami, come on, do you want to get out or not?”

“You…you can’t have a knife in my room! You can’t! Otherwise, I’ll cut—“

Julieta looked at him incredulously. “I’ll cut the vines…with a knife.”

Dolores walked over to Camilo and held his face in her hands. “I know how much you hate knives, but they won’t cut you. Your sister’s here with you. Just breathe.”

Camilo closed his eyes. Julieta sawed at the vines, but all they did was grow rougher and firmer.

“It’s no use.” Julieta sighed. “They’re Isabela’s vines. Only she can control them. We must find Isabela and get her back to remove them.”

“Please…just go…!” Camilo pleaded with his tía, and Dolores imagined that if Camilo still had sensations in his body, he would kick the knife out of this earth’s orbit.

“All right.” Julieta left, and Dolores went downstairs to find Isabela. But speak of the devil! The moment she approached the door, Isabela threw it open. “I’m hooome!” she proclaimed theatrically. She suddenly noticed Dolores. “Oh! Dolores! You’re awake! Guess I’ll release the vines now.”

And just like that, the vines were gone. Camilo rapidly shook his hands to get the blood flowing again. Once he did, he itched every part of his body. Having been fully terrorized into apologizing to Dolores by Isabela, he knew there was only one thing to do now. And he was going to go do it.

"Wow," Isabela gasped. "Looks like I really did knock some sense into him!"

"More like you Luisaed some sense into him," Dolores flatly snarked. "Isa, you scared him into apologizing to me. Granted, it most likely came from a place of genuity, but still. You could've just talked to him normally."

"Camilo isn't the type to be handled normally," Isa replied. "He needs extra dicipline."

"Not the type you're giving him." Dolores sighed, seeing that Isabela was too out for Camilo's blood to change her mind. "So, umm, what did you and Monika do?"

Isabela waved her hands around, flustered. "W-what? We didn't...DO anything, if that's the type of do you're talking about!"

"I just meant what happened while you were over there?" Dolores wanted to know.

Oh. Phew. "Oh, well, mostly we just...umm, talked and chatted--I mean, I and her mom chatted, Monika either signed or wrote--and I gave Monika my own Polvorosas cookies made by Mami and they cured her broken nose. It was really fun and yet calm and peaceful! You should've seen the look on her face!" Isabela drifted off into dreamland.

Dolores only smiled. "Yup, exactly what I meant!" she laughed.

"Yeah." Isabela laughed.

"What did you think I meant? That you and Monika were in love?"

Isabela covered her face with her hands, and Dolores gave a shit-eating grin. Isabela peeked through her fingers just in time to see it, and Dolores failed to make a poker face.

Isabela lightly shoved her. "Stop that!" she wailed.

"All right all right I'm just teasing!" Dolores giggled, when suddenly they both stopped as they heard a series of crashes, objects tumbling over and breaking, and a cat screeching in the distance.

"Did someone say LOVE?!" Uh oh. The love-obssessed terror had arrived.

Isabela sighed and adjusted Mirabel's glasses. "Ay ay ay, no Mirabel, we meant that we really love Mami's cooking--"

But she was interrupted by tight arms wrapped firmly around her neck and a nose buried in the center of her chest.

"Mmmm-mmm-mmm! That makes me so happy! Mi hermana mayor has finally found true love at last!"

Isabela couldn't hide her embarrassment if she tried.

"Are you gonna tell everyone? The same way you almost told--you're not gonna tell everyone, are you?" Dolores asked Mirabel.

"Why? Should I?" Mirabel innocently tilted her head to the side like a puppy who didn't understand a trick.

"I think you totally should."

"DOLORES!"

"What's wrong?!" Dolores giggled to herself, and Mirabel giggled along. She then leaned down into her younger cousin's ear to whisper something about "Camilo" and "Mariano". Mirabel practically howled at this. Isabela didn't understand.

"Don't let Isa know, though," Mirabel blatantly excluded her even though Isabela was standing right there.

"Oh, don't worry, I won't. She'll kill Camilo for trying to take--"

"SHHH!!!" Mirabel clasped a finger over Dolores' lips, the latter girl's eyes giddy with a mischievous delight that unnerved Isabela, if only because it was at her expense.

"Oh right! I forgot! Lo siento, Belita, but the cat stays in the bag!" Dolores did the "lock my lips and through away the key" movement.

"Time to eat!" Abuela called out. Oh yes. Isabela had nearly forgot it was lunchtime.

"Oh, yay!" Dolores exclaimed as they made their way to the table, her and Mirabel uttering their gossip along the way. Isabela wondered how much of it had to do with Camilo. And Mariano, for whatever reason at all they were in the same sentence.

She forced herself to not visibly recoil at the sight of the last person she wanted to see: Camilo, who was making himself a seat at the opposite end of the table to her. Good. Now she wouldn't have to see his disgusting face get filled with chicken and rice.

She was getting utensils out of the cabinet, as hers were damaged for some reason, when she suddenly felt another pair of tight arms wrapped around her torso, squeezing a little bit tighter than Mirabel's.

"I love you, Isa!" chirped an annoying voice.

"Ew!" Isabela grew a cactus from her palm in the span of three seconds. "Don't you dare!" But just as she was about to puncture those annoying and hideous curls with her pricks, she heard an "ahem".

Looking up to see Abuela glaring at her, she felt annoyed. "Isabela. Don't you dare hurt your primito."

"Come sit at the table with your utensils and eat, Isa." Julieta spoke a little more sternly this time.

Isa grumbled, shoving Camilo violently off of her before she clomped herself down between to Dolores and Luisa. Camilo smirked at her before going back to his side of the table. It's almost like he couldn't take a hint.

“Oh wait!” Dolores stood up. “I have to brush my teeth! I took a nap!”

“Take your time, Dolores,” Julieta gently affirmed her, and off she ran.

Meanwhile, the rest of them ate while talking amongst each other.

Not long after, Dolores came back, Isabela peeked over to see what Dolores was saying. She was whispering to Mirabel while giggling. Isabela had the tiniest of a hunch what was going on.

“Umm, are you talking about me, by any chance?” Isabela asked.

“No!” Dolores giggled. But her grin made Isabela all the more suspicious.

Mirabel coughed. And coughed. And coughed some more. It was clear that she was hiding something. Before long she stopped pretending to cough and just started laughing. Dolores laughed along. Mirabel raised a wobbling glass of water to her lips and took light sips. Then she looked up, saw Dolores winking at her and wiggling her eyelashes, and almost choked on her laughter. These girls were terrible at keeping secrets.

“Why don’t I ever get to be part of any of the gossip?” Isabela bemoaned.

“Don’t worry, you don’t want to be a part of this gossip!” Dolores assured her.

“Why?! Is it because it’s about me?”

“No, actually, it’s about Camilo!”

But Isabela only perked up at this news. “Camilo?” She said this a little too loudly, and the others shot her looks from their seats at the table.

Camilo tilted his chair back? “Did someone say my na—“ and fell over. Isabela rolled her eyes, the three girls ignoring him as they went back to talking, Felix helping Camilo up and into his seat.

“Are you all right, mijo?” His father’s face was painted with concern. “You’re a bit more distracted than usual, even for you.”

“Wow. No, Papi, I feel all right. I just thought Isabela actually wanted to say something to me.”

“Well, did she?”

“No. Isa wants nothing to do with me, Papi. Obviously. Everyone knows that, I just…” he toyed with his food. “I thought you did, too.”

His father’s hand was placed over his own. “I’m sure Isa loves you with all her heart can muster, Milo.”

Camilo only shook his head. “You don’t know my prima, Papi.”

“Did he do something bad?” Isabela asked a little too excitedly. “I mean, I know he did, but still. Did he get in trouble for it? Did Felix give him a—“

“What? No! Nothing like that at all!” Dolores interrupted.

“Aww, well, are you saying anything bad about him?”

“Not bad necessarily, but…he, well, you can’t know because you would flip out,” Mirabel interjected.

“And why would I do that?” Isabela asked. She knew the answer to this question already, though. Everything about Camilo made her want to flip out.

“Because you care about Dolores!” Mirabel said.

Isa relented. That she couldn’t disagree with.

Dolores only giggled. “Basically, Camilo has—“

“The tickles!” Mirabel interrupted as Isabela eyed them both in confusion. “He has the tickles!” Leaning into Dolores, she whispered, “That’s the code word!”

“Oh yeah,” Dolores murmured, barely nodding her head.

“I have no idea what that means, but I don’t care,” Isabela lied. “I’ll just talk to Luisa instead.”

“Huh?” Luisa uttered in confusion as Isabela latched onto her thick bicep.

“Let’s talk, hermanita!” Isabela eagerly grinned.

“What do you wanna talk about, I was kinda in the middle of a conversation with Mami.”

“And I can join in!” She turned her full body to be away from Dolores and Mirabel. Not that they noticed. They were too busy excluding her and gossiping about Camilo. “Do you ever feel lonely, left out, on the outside looking in, like nobody really cares about you?”

“No.”

“Well, if you do, I’m right here listening, to let you know that I do care!”

Luisa paused. “Actually, I do kinda feel like that! Or at least, I used to back when I was under constant pressure to be the strong one all the time.”

“Yeah. I felt the same way with my pressure to be pretty and perfect. I wish I had the strength to resist those expectations sooner rather than later.”

“You’re stronger than you think, Isabela, in your own way!”

“Thanks, Luisa.”

“Thank you.”

“I was just talking to Luisa about something similar, actually!” Julieta added, with a comforting hand on her middle daughter’s shoulder. “She asked me to teach her how to cook! I think that would make for good mother-daughter bonding. And, I mean, I can’t cook all the time. What do you say?”

“Did you see the look on his face?!” Mirabel hissed.

“Not only that, but you should have heard the way he was stuttering!“ Dolores excitedly gossiped.

“Oh my Gosh! I should have been there!” Mirabel slapped her hands against her cheeks.

“Did you know that he actually said the words?”

Gasp! “He…said…’I…’”

“Yes!”

“And I missed out.” Mirabel whimpered.

“I had to tell…”

Isabela’s ears were burning.

“Isa?”

“Yes?” Luisa was still looking at her and so was their mami.

“I was asking if you wanted to join in on learning to cook, too?”

“That sounds like fun, sure!” Isabela agreed without even thinking. To be fair, she had never learned how to cook. And never really been interested in it. Perfect, pretty girls didn’t get their hands dirty, because perfect wasn’t actually about having any actual skills, it was about being put on a pedestal. It was about face value. But the thought intrigued her for precisely this reason. After Casita fell and she had lost her chlorokinesis, she had taken it upon herself to learn how to plant for herself. She realized that cooking and planting were much the same—they both involved ingredients of sorts, only one was for a meal and the other was soil, seeds, water, and light. They both involved rolling up their sleeves and getting their hands dirty in quite a literal sense, and though the process was long, the end results were well worthwhile. So she really did want to learn to cook. Who wouldn’t?

“Splendid!” Julieta cheered.

“When are we going to learn?” Isabela asked.

“What are you doing right after this?” Julieta asked back.

Isabela frowned.

Seeing how seriously Isabela took her joke, Julieta couldn’t repress a laugh. “I’m just kidding, we can start on Monday!”

“Better make it Tuesday!” Isabela decided. “I have something I need to do on Monday!”

“All right! I’ll teach Luisa then and then on Tuesday we can both show you what she’s learned. Unless you don’t want to be there, Luisa?”

“No, it’s fine! I’ll be there!” Luisa affirmed.

“Perfect!”

“What do you have to do on Tuesday, Isabela?” Luisa asked.

“I…have to visit…a friend…” Isabela was afraid of what would happen next.

“Monika?”

“Yespleasedon’tmakefunofmeit’struethatihaveacrushonherbutnobodyneedstoknowsopleasezipitlockitputitinyourpocketokay?!?!!” Isabela rambled.

Luisa snort-laughed. “It’s okay, I won’t make fun of you! You’re not the first person to feel that way about somebody!”

“Yeah, definitely not the first!” Of course Dolores heard. Isabela observed her grin, as well as Mirabel’s as they looked at each other, consumed by the hilarity of their favorite inside joke.

“Yeah, like you and Mariano and you and Yamilet?” Isabela asked a little loudly, happy to see them blush.

“Yeah, so back to the tickles…” Dolores went. Isabela sighed. They haven’t been deterred in the slightest. They were all too determined to keep the secret from Isabela. Which was all fine and dandy for her. She had her ways of worming out information that she wanted to know.

She ignored the sorrow in her heart as she went on chatting with Luisa and her Julieta for what seemed like an endless amount of time.

Eventually lunch was over. Finally. Isabela picked up her plates to leave. Dolores and Mirabel continued talking.

“Obviously I don’t want them together…”

“Yeah…” Dolores agreed. “That would be weird and wrong.”

“But it’s still super cute!” Mirabel squealed, Dolores let out her signature hum as she agreed.

“I thought you were talking about Camilo,” Isabela confronted them.

“Well, we’re not anymore,” Dolores lied.

“Forget it.” Isabela rolled her eyes, the sadness apparent on her face, and Dolores and Mirabel couldn’t help but feel a little bit sad that they had to leave Isabela out. Still, they knew that this was a secret that nobody could know. Isabela wasn’t the only one excluded. “I’m going to help Tía wash the plates.”

“Hey—“

“I said—“ Isabela choked back tears. “I’m going to help Tía wash the plates.”

“This is a thing that’s just between us two.” Dolores gestured with her finger to herself and Mirabel. “We’re not trying to exclude you. Nobody else knows about this either.”

“And trust me, it would be embarrassing for us to tell, anyway.” Mirabel tacked on.

The moment Isabela nodded and walked away, however, she turned to Dolores. "For Camilo."

"Right?!" Dolores howled with her.

"I still can't believe Camilo is in love with Mariano. I know he likes guys, too, but I just thought he'd like more feminine ones such as himself!"

"That's wild, because so did I!"

"The boy's got it bad," Mirabel swooned.

"It's the truth. I almost feel bad for him. Almost." The truth was that Dolores didn't feel bad at all.

"I'm just glad I have you to gossip with about it since you know everything anyway!"

"I know right? And yeah."

Isabela dwelled on this. She knew Dolores was allowed to have bonds with others besides herself. She was allowed to have jokes that Isabela wasn’t involved in. But it still hurt to have them giggle and gossip giddily right next to her as she was left out of their conversation. Because at the end of the day, Isabela was Dolores’ best friend, not Mirabel. Isabela was the one who ran around with Dolores in the flower fields, who gave Dolores a bouquet of red flowers when they were little and let her throw the petals in the air as she pretended to have her gift. Isabela was the one who tilted her ear and fabricated tales of the Madrigals and what they were getting into. Isabela was the one who exchanged clothes with Dolores and dropped Camilo as a baby, making herself partially responsible for the idiot that Camilo was now.

And that was exactly why, when she remembered the lovely memories she had of herself and Dolores, it made her recoil at this even more. She could already see new memories being made. Ones with Mirabel in her place at Dolores’ side. One with Mirabel as Dolores’ best friend. What was Isabela to do? Yeah, she had Luisa, and she loved Luisa. But Dolores was the only family member her age, and Isabela had been her sister figure, had made up for the lack of an actual female sibling on Dolores' side of the family. Nobody’s ever actually wanted to have only brothers, nobody would even ask for them if sisters were an option. But Isabela guessed Mirabel was a better “sister” to Dolores. Oh well. Isabela didn’t care in the slightest. At least she had an actual sister. And a Tía.

So consumed by sadness, she didn’t even notice Camilo hurriedly making its way to her.

“Isabela, can you help me fix my mirror?”

“No, Camilo,” Isabela didn’t even bother to be curt and cutthroat with him. She walked towards the rainstorm in the kitchen.

“Please, Isa?!”

“No.”

“But Isa, you know how how I get about sharp objects!”

“It’s not my fault you broke your own equipment,” Isabela flatly declared. “Fix it yourself!”

“I’m scared, Isa!”

Isa was slowly getting more and more riled up. “Scared of a few pointy little shards of glass, Camilo? Get over yourself!”

“Isabela, why do you hate me? We’re family! Aren’t you supposed to love your family?”

“Do NOT go there, Camilo!” Isabela whipped around to glare at him and point an accusatory finger. “I have a lot of shit to deal with right now, so don’t you dare even try to play ignorant! You know what you did, and why I hate you. Have you tried not being an annoying asshole who’s even more of a prick than my cactus? Ok thx bye.” She walked away without waiting for a response, while Camilo simply watched her leave in agony. He didn’t know why he still loved her, other than that they were family.

Isabela entered the kitchen to see Pepa raining over the dishes as she scrubbed them. Her melancholy sobrina joined her.

“You’d like to help me, mi amor?” Pepa asked. Isabela nodded. Of course she did. Maybe there was someone on the warm-colored side of the family who actually wanted to spend time with her…and whom she actually wanted to spend time with as well.

“Would you like some of my rain?” Pepa asked, and Isabela nodded once more. Her Tía’s cloud split in two, and a little grey puff of air and evaporation hovered over the dishes as Isabela soaked them in soap. Once she had done that, the almost spongelike cloud sprinkled its rain across the surface of the plates. This went on with all of the plates, until it was time to dry.

“Mi sobrina, you seem a little sad. Is everything all right?” Pepa asked sincerely. But Isabela couldn’t help but seem like a baby.

Wiping her tears and trying to cry as silently as possible, Isabela sighed. She felt like she had sighed enough, but it was the only way to express her sadness in a way that didn’t delve into utter childishness. “Dolores is keeping a secret from me.”

"Dolores can keep secrets?" Pepa was only joking of course, but when one of the biggest secrets you spill is one that has to do with the entire family being in danger, even if it was right to tell, it's hard to not have a reputation among the family. The same way Isabela has a reputation for not being able to hold a baby, just because of something that happened fourteen years ago.

"Tía! Come on!"

Pepa laughed. "I'm just teasing." She probably would've patted Isabela on the shoulder if not for their soaked wet hands. "I honestly understand how hard it feels. After all, when I was younger, I got upset when Julieta and Bruno had secrets with each other that I wasn't allowed to be a part of. It's only natural when you're triplets. But you and Dolores are as close as twins, same as Mirabel and my Camilo. So I can imagine it's hard for you, too. It's natural to be upset when you think your best friend is keeping secrets from you. But it's best to respect her privacy instead of getting in a tornado about it. Try to be understanding of her desire to keep an inside joke with Mirabel and not prod any further, okay?"

"I know, but they said it was something about Camilo and I really want to laugh at him!" Isabela justified.

Pepa nodded awkwardly. "Why yes, I know that you have some...problems, with my son, but perhaps that's exactly why they don't want to tell you. Perhaps you should try to mend the bond between Camilo and you."

"Why should I?" Isabela asked angrily.

"Because holding on to hatred only wears down your heart," Pepa spoke seriously and with grief stricken in her voice. "Trust me, I know how that feels." Isabela instantly knew who she was talking about. "You don't want to hold on to that stuff, it corrupts you, especially when the recipient of your unnecessary hatred is a family member. After all, you patched things up with Mirabel. Why can't you do the same with Camilo?"

"I realized then that Mirabel didn't do anything wrong!" Isabela proclaimed. "Camilo on the other hand, lied about me to Mariano, ate my food for me, and published my diary and now everybody reads it and likes it! Plus, he's older than Mirabel! He should know better!"

"La Princesa del Encanto?" Pepa realized.

"EERGH!"

"Oh dear, that is actually...what I was reading this morning. After I read my Bible, that is. It was very...captivating. And if I had know it was your diary, mi sobrina, I never would have read it at all, please believe me."

"I do believe you, Tía." Isabela sighed. "But I hope now you see why I hate him for constantly trying to ruin my life!"

"Hate is a strong word," Pepa corrected her. "I'm not going to force you to make friendship bracelets with him and paint each other's nails and braid each other's hair, but...I'll talk to him about it."

"Thank you Tía." Isabela was definitely gracious for this. "He's a mama's boy, he wouldn't dare cuss you out like he did Dolores." She wasn't sorry that she accidentally spilled this secret.

"He did WHAT?!"

"Umm. Talk to him about that, too!" Isabela awkwardly sputtered as Pepa started thundering at her son's utter indiscipline.

"Don't worry, sobrina, I WILL." She started to scrub harder.

"Am I done?" Isabela asked eagerly.

"Yes, you are, I'll do the rest."

"Thank you, I'll go now!" She kissed her Tía on the cheek. Pepa gave her one back. With a wave, she hurried away to the safety of her own room. While on her way back, she actually found that she couldn't help but dwell upon Pepa's wise words. Maybe--and Isabela thought this with much shame, guilt, and regret--she was right. Maybe she shouldn't hate Camilo. After all, she didn't want to be that person in the family who hated everyone else, rotating from one victim to the other. Yes, the things Camilo did were bad, but that wasn't an excuse for her--

"CAMILO?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

Camilo looked up in surprise to see that Isabela had entered her room. Scrambling to hide his crime, he stuffed the newly grown broccoli in his dress pockets and ushered the rabbits away. "Run, conejitas! You've had enough for today!"

The cute little bunnies eagerly scurried off, hopping through the pink petals, but Isabela was too enraged at Camilo's antics yet again to pay any mind to the cuteness of the rabbits. She stomped over to him and grabbed his collar with one hand, lifting his feet off the ground as he kicked about fruitlessly.

"You have FIVE minutes to start rattling off an explanation. GO!"

"Antonio's rabbits were hungry!" Camilo squeaked. "I couldn't find any food for them. I just looked around and grabbed the first thing that I could find! It was an honest to God mistake, I swear!"

"And the first thing you could find was something this far into my room? Something I had planted? Something that you had to pull from its roots?!" Isabela forced Camilo back on his feet, and he was all too eager to be standing again, though he was still at Isabela's mercy. She shoved the flaps of his ruana aside and yanked out the broccoli stalks, turning his pockets inside out as she did so. She shoved them in Camilo's face. "YOU came in here intentionally with Antonio's rabbits! And fed them...these! You purposely came into my room, looked for vegetation that I had planted, and fed it to these pets despite the fact that I was growing them for later! And now I'll never get to witness the end result of my labor, all because of YOU! And you wonder why I hate you!"

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? Is that what you want to hear?" Camilo raised his hands in the air in mock surrender. "I mean, I didn't do it, obviously, but if I did, then I would be sorry! So now will you help me fix my mirror?"

Isabela was confused at this. What mirror? What about this mirror? Why was it so important that this mirror be fixed? And suddenly, she remembered.

"THAT'S what this is about?" Isabela raged at him. "Your stupid fucking mirror? You're upset because I wouldn't let you piece together some broken ass pieces of fucking glass that you broke by yourself? So you had to go murder my crops because of it? What kind of fucking pettiness is that?"

Camilo wasn't used to hearing such a potty mouth from Isabela. "Since when did you have a dirty mouth?" he asked. "Maybe you need to go see a fucking dentist."

"Get. Out." Isabela pointed at the door. "Gosh. I don't even want to look at your face right now. Some family you are." Camilo was stunned for a second, but then a Venus Fly Trap erupted from the ground, picked the little boy up with its mouth, and carried him outside. "I can't believe I have to put my rightful anger aside for the sake of family when family goes ahead and does something like this. And to think I was almost considering not hating you before I walked in on this crap."

That was the last thing Camilo heard before the Venus Fly Trap shoved him out the door and then, locking its lips on the knob, slammed it shut tight in his face. Camilo couldn't even bring himself to laugh at the situation, because he was too ashamed of what he had done.

Inside the flowery haven of her bedroom that didn't feel so haveny anymore now that Camilo's footsteps had invaded it, Isabela drooped down onto her bed, anger and sadness and betrayal and all the emotions she had been bottling up inside finally coming to the surface as she cried relentlessly.

Isabela had always hated Camilo. That's what she told herself, at least. How could she not when he had been the main contributor to her embarrassment, stress, and grief? But that still didn't mean she didn't feel sympathy for him when--after dinner--he had gone and done this to himself.

Made himself throw up. After every meal. Why was he doing this? Why didn't anybody know? Was it because of Isabela? She prayed not.

She held up the container, waving it slightly, and stared at Camilo, waiting for an answer.

"Camilo. What is this? What have you been doing to yourself? Explain it to me, right now."

Camilo froze in his position hunched on the ground next to the toilet, and Isabela tried her damndest to ignore the icky pale brownish orange liquid that was leaking from the toilet seat, drip drip dripping like rain, each drop creating an ever-so-slowly growing vomit puddle at the foot of the toilet. It almost made Isabela throw up in her mouth. But she needed to be strong, because Camilo, at the moment, was not.

"You wouldn't understand."

"Then help me understand." Isabela inched closer, but Camilo only backed himself into a corner. With his entire body shivering and his eyes wide and pleading, Isabela wondered at what point in time her cousin had transformed into this person.

"No, I can't! You know why? Because you hate me! I know! And I know I deserve to be hated. I deserve everything bad you said about me! I deserve everything bad anyone's ever said about me. I know you're not the only one who hates me, everyone else in this family does, too. I don't even deserve to be here, so please. Just, leave me alone. Please."

"Leave you alone to suffer?" Isabela incredulously repeated. "I don't think so."

"But...I'm not suffering, Isa!"

"You are suffering!" Isabela hollered. "You've been binging and purging for God knows how long!" She threw the pill container down on the floor in a heated rage, and the sound it made rang through Camilo's ears like a migraine. "How long have you been doing this?"

"...I don't remember."

Isabela's face relaxed. She was horrified. This was not the same person Isabela had seen Camilo as before. This boy was someone different. She could see into his eyes, and her heart broke like Camilo's mirror as she was given the pleasure of witnessing their green vibrance slowly disappear, gradually becoming cloudier and duller, until before long there was nothing there. His eyes were empty and numb, lacking all emotion, not even sadness was present in his expression. It was as if he had gotten used to the misery that was his life, accustomed to the self-inflicted pain that he performed ritually, like clockwork, and believed he deserved. He had wisen up to the fact that his cries for help would go unnoticed, unheard, had gone unnoticed and unheard, including by Isabela herself.

Isabela inched towards him, and he didn't move a muscle, Isabela wasn't even sure he was breathing. He sat their limply, as good as dead, plenty of people went out with their eyes open, after all.

But Camilo was not dead. Not on Isabela's watch. She took Camilo's face into her hands, and stared into the black, void, doll-like glass. Eyes which faced her, gave the impression that they took her in, and yet stared into oblivion, unliving and unconcious.

"Camilito," she said genuinely and softly. "Come with me."

Camilo rose and stood up, as if he were a robot programmed on demand to be activated by certain orders spoken towards him. His feet moved mechanically like those of a Nutcracker doll, as Isabela played with him, making him move to her room. Camilo's eyes did not light up at the splendor that Isabela's botanical wonder possessed. No, they remained black and dull, lacking vibrance entirely. Isabela was miserable looking at it. She couldn't help but choke back tears as her cousin was virtually a zombie.

They finally sat down on Isabela's flower bed. Or, Isabela sat down. Camilo had to be physically bent and forced down. The atmosphere of the room slowly got darker, until eventually it was less pink and more grey.

Camilo blinked, and just like that, he was back in his own body. "What...wasn't I just in the bathroom?" He turned to see Isabela sitting next to him on her bed. He sprang up and hurried down the steps, but the curtains closed around them and cacti sprang around Camilo until he was backed down onto the bed and forced to take a seat once more.

"You are not leaving until you tell me what's going on," Isabela demanded.

"Why do you care? I thought you hated me," Camilo snorted, and Isabela felt hurt, although not offended, because it was true. Isabela had been hating Camilo for the longest time. Of course, she had a right to be upset at the shitty things Camilo had done towards her, but suddenly Pepa's words began to ring true more so than ever.

"You know, a wise woman once told me that holding on to hatred, for family members especially, only wears down on your heart and makes you miserable. And...I don't want to feel miserable. I don't..." she realized the truth as soon as she said it, squeezing his hands upon the revelation. "I don't want to hate you. I was just...hurt by what you did. I don't think I deserved it. But I want to help you. I don't want to see you being miserable either."

"I've hardly a choice in the matter." Camilo dully picked at the loose thread on his brown dress pants. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry for that," Isabela took his hands. She wasn't used to being this nice to him, and if Bruno had told her that one day she would be holding Camilo's hands and trying to help him cheer up, she would laugh at his face and send him back to live in the walls. But here she was, doing just that.

"Just...tell me what is going on?"

Camilo stared lifelessly at where his thighs happened to be. His thighs that were too small for his now baggy pants. Maybe he should start wearing dresses, he thought with all seriousness, that would hide it better. Taking a few shaky breaths before uttering in a voice barely above a whisper, "I'm just not...happy...anymore." He hiccuped and resisted bursting into tears. He didn't want to wake up Dolores and let her know what was happening.

Isabela felt utterly downtrodden at this news. How could she let her cousin destroy himself living and barely living like this? "Why not?"

"That's...that's the thing. I...can't put my finger on just one thing that makes me feel this way, but...I just feel like...there's no purpose in me being here. It's like...I'm just moving through life, but like...nobody loves me or wants me around. Nobody cares how I really feel. And, not even Mirabel, who I thought loved me, sees me as anything more than a clown. And, like, I know we love to cause mischief and chaos in our wake, but I still take her seriously and comfort her and cheer her up when she's feeling down. Just like I'd do for Mami when she's under the weather. And yet she doesn't think my feelings deserve attention. It really breaks my heart."

"Oh...it's okay. I know she does care. Trust me."

"No she doesn't. Nobody cares. Maybe if at least one person cared, I wouldn't cry myself to sleep every night Mirabel wasn't by my side, but...it makes me mad at her sometimes. Sometimes I almost want to hate her for it. Though I know I can't, because if I were anybody else, I wouldn't care either."

"I assure you that everybody here loves you, Camilo. And we do care about your problems. We didn't talk about them with you because we didn't know they existed. You should've told us."

"It's not that easy," Camilo shook his head. "Not when everybody will just tell you to be grateful for what you have, to enjoy your childhood, that they struggled so you could have it easy and now you wanna complain?"

"Yeah. I understand that."

"But it's not easy. All I do is perform all the time. My job is to be an entertainer. To be funny and happy. To not be taken seriously. To not be asked what's wrong. No matter what, I can't show dissatisfaction with my life because I'm on display and everybody has to like what they see! How can I not be broken by that? It eats me up inside and...I guess that's why I'm so miserable."

Isabela felt guilt that she didn't realize this sooner. "I...I didn't even notice that your problems were similar to mine. I was forced to put on a show, too. Only no one expected me to be funny. Just pretty and shallow and...perfect."

"Yeah, I know, Señorita Perfecta and all that," Camilo chuckled emptily. "But you broke out of that. You even got to sing a song about how you embraced your true self and all that. But I still haven't done that. Isa...I hate my gift."

I hate my gift. Another way in which Isabela had felt the same. Why didn't she realize this sooner? She felt the pit in her stomach growing bigger. She wanted to cry. And yet, all she could do was rub Camilo's back as he poured his heart out.

"I just felt like everybody had what I wanted to have. Mirabel got to have fun and be happy and playful and didn't have any responsibilities, but I have to be more mature and responsible all the time because I'm older and should know better, because months only matter when adults say they should. She wins every argument we have, I'm always in the wrong, because I have to be the 'bigger person'. You got to be beloved by everyone, Abuela favored you, you were the prettiest girl in the village, Mariano wanted to marry you, nobody took a second glance at me, and when they did, they were literally telling me to not be me. I wish I could be someone who's not me, permanently."

"But don't be jealous of that," Isabela warmly corrected him. "I was put in a box, too you know. And I never wanted to marry Mariano, either. That's why I broke off the engagement."

"I know that now. But I guess...I mean, I was happy when the proposal was called off, but then Dolores entered the picture. And I was jealous of her, too. Not only because she got to express and be open about her feelings, while I had to go through the burden of listening to them, but she got to have what I always wanted."

Isabela was confused. Which was...?

"And, I mean, I knew I didn't stand a chance with Dolores in the way. I knew Mariano would never look at me, I mean, I should actually be happy about that, I'm fifteen, he's twenty-one, that would be predatory, but...how can you not be miserable about the one you love being so far out of reach? I hate that I had to comfort Dolores about her unrequited love for a man that I also harbored the same longing for, and yet nobody could know about it because it would just cause chaos, and I'm pretty sure Mariano likes girls, and besides, I'd just be laughed at and told to get over it, and then--"

"Wait wait wait wait wait wait wait," Isabela waved her hands in the air. "Slooow down, chiquito. Because this is news to me. I mean, all of this is news to me, but...this especially." Isabela took a while to process the information she had just been fed, and slowly the pieces started connecting.

"Oh no," Camilo grumbled.

"No, I'm not mad, but you mean to tell me that you..." Isabela could barely believe it, but nonetheless, she was fully blown away when Camilo admitted it from his own mouth.

"I have a crush on Mariano, Isa."

"..."

"You said you wouldn't be mad."

"I'm not, it's just..."

So that explained it. That explained why Camilo had lied about Isabela's supposed image of Mariano, that explained why he was so miserable when Isabela told him that Dolores was engaged to him. That explained why he was stuttering and stammering and blushing and doing all the things Dolores and Mirabel claimed he did. No wonder they didn't want her to know. They probably figured she would box the shit out of him for trying to taking away Dolores' love. And apparently they were talking about him all along, even when they said they weren't.

She facepalmed with both hands. "I can't believe I didn't know. I can't believe I didn't detect it. I feel so dumb. So oblivious." She didn't want to make this about herself, but the more she found out similar she and Camilo were, the more embarrassed she felt for all the hatred she had for him for as long as she could remember.

"Why?"

"I like girls, Camilo."

"..."

"I like the same sex, too, Camilo. I like girls. I like a girl, actually. Damnit, I was supposed to know this! That's how it works!"

Camilo couldn't help but laugh at this despite his misery. "I knew."

Isabela wanted to die.

"You and Monika have crazy chemistry, more so than me and Mariano ever will." Camilo placed a hand on Isabela's shoulder and pushed her hands out of her face. "Don't be ashamed of your feelings. Liking girls is just like liking guys. It's just like Dolores likes Mariano and Mariano likes her. It's normal. Don't be ashamed of it." Camilo smiled. "Love is love, and your love for her isn't any less valid than theirs."

"Yeah, thanks, Cami." Isabela wanted to laugh. "I feel like everybody knows I like her. I'm so transparent, it's embarrassing."

"No, it's a great thing," Camilo comforted. "So, do you like guys, too?"

"Nope, just girls. Though even if I did like guys, I wouldn't want to marry Mariano anyway. Handsome as he may be."

"That's what I said! As you! At dinner!" Camilo and Isabela laughed.

"You're much better at this stuff than I tend to think," Isabela complimented. "I'm sure you'll get far in theatre."

"Thanks, what can I say? Great minds think alike!"

Though fools seldom differ, is the real ending of that phrase, but neither of them cared.

"So does anybody else know that you like Mariano?" Isabela asked.

"Mirabel and...Dolores obviously. I only told Mirabel, but you know Dolores' gift already, like...come on. I should've know better, especially since Mirabel is the..."

They shuttered. They both knew.

"So you have...the tickles?"

"The what?"

"That's want Mirabel and Dolores call your crush on him. I guess it's because he 'tickles your fancy', is that it? I mean you wouldn't know, but... Camilo?"

Pause. Uh oh. Isabela shifted in her seat, knowing what would happen next.

Camilo sprung up from the bed, a fire in his eyes. "THEY WERE MAKING FUN OF ME?!?!?!?!?!"

"Well, eheheh, not making fun, per se," Isabela worded awkwardly, not knowing how to go about this, seeing the rage that was apparent on Camilo's face. "But...gossipping."

Camilo nodded. "I'm going to go talk to them."

He stomped away.

"Wait! They said good things, too! Like that it was cute that you had a crush on him! And...stuff. I swear they weren't laughing at you. Well, they were laughing, but not at you!" That didn't help matters.

"Wow, how condescending," Camilo quipped. "It's a good thing you saved their asses. Really, a good thing."

"But we still have to talk about your issues. Nobody else knows about them, and that's not okay."

Camilo sat down on the bed.

Isabela didn't know how to ask this. "How long have you been...bulimic?"

"Since I was thirteen." The words slipped off of Camilo's tongue like he was waiting to say them. Like he had calculated the numbers in his head for two years straight.

"...Oh. Why?"

Camilo shrugged, but he had an answer. "Frankly, I guess I just wanted somebody to look at me. I thought that if I destroyed myself enough...people would see how much I was hurting. And finally pay attention to me, notice the real Camilo, and his issues. Or maybe I just wanted to punish myself for feeling bad at all. Or maybe maybe I just got so used to changing my body that when I couldn't shapeshift, I hated myself. And I had to find a way to alter myself somehow and this was the only way to do so. I always thought I was pretty ugly anyway..." His voice sounded so bleak and empty, devoid of all hope. This was what was beneath his playful mask, all day every day? No wonder he was so mentally and emotionally exhausted! Physically, too! Isabela had to speak some sense into him somehow. She knew she couldn't let him suffer.

"Cami, no! Listen to me! You don't need to starve yourself to be attractive!" Isabela wrapped him in a hug. You're very cute and beautiful and handsome, just the way you are! And you don't deserve to be punished for not being happy! My goodness, primo...Camilo, we see you. We see you, even without you doing this. You think we'd just not care about you unless you made yourself malnourished? Don't think like that!" She finally broke the hug to lock eyes with him, hands protectively on his shoulder. "Camilo, are you...are you suicidal?"

"What's that?"

"Do you want to die? To take your own life?"

"...Isa?"

"Yes?" Isabela awaited his next revelation in horror. This boy was like a matryoshka doll, and she was growing increasingly worrisome at what little she knew about him. Camilo was right. Isabela had no idea what Camilo was truly like or what he was going through. And she felt pathetic beacuse of it.

"Do you...know why I'm afraid of knives? Why I don't allow sharp objects in my room?"

Isabela remembered the screaming fit he had went into when Julieta tried to cut the vines holding him. "N..."

"It's because...every time I see them, my mind gets carried away, and I hear all these voices telling me to do things I don't want to do. Or maybe I do want to do them, but know deep down that it would only hurt this family, and I couldn't hide it for long. I'm really...not slick. But...when in contact with sharp objects...I imagine...cutting myself."

How was Isabela even to respond to that? "Have you ever actually self-harmed with a knife?"

"No!"

"How do I know that?" Without warning nor hesitation, she moved his ruana aside and rolled up his shirt sleeves. Examining his too-thin, veiny arms, she was relieved to not see red streaks and scars tracing his skin.

"What about the rest of you?"

"Isa, I swear there's nothing!"

"How am I supposed to trust you? You literally have been throwing up and can barely even digest food, for two years? How do I know you're not cutting either?"

"How could I if I don't have anything sharp in my room?"

"You're not in your room all the time!"

"You want proof? Fine! Here's proof!" he took of his ruana and raised a part of his shirt to reveal his belly and ribs. "See? No scars." He rolled up his pant legs to do the same. "No scars there either. Please don't worry, Isa. I might have had the thoughts, but I'd never let them get the best of me."

"I want to believe you, Camilo, really, I do. But I'm worried. I'm worried for your sanity. And for your safety. I don't want you to be hurt, Camilo. You don't deserve this. Just...promise me you'll get better. And talk to other people if necessary."

Camilo's eyes overflowed with tears. Red-faced and hiccuping, he could barely even utter the words, but he did. "Isabela...I-I'm sorry, too. For everything I did. I know there was no excuse, no matter how badly I was feeling. I never should've taken it out on you, or Dolores, no matter what. And...I was petty, and mean, and rude, and you had every right to hate me. I won't be mad if you still hate me now. Even I hate me."

"I don't hate you," Isabela gently explained. "But thank you for your apology. It's okay." She grabbed him close to her chest, and hugged him tightly. "My Gosh...I feel, horrible. I'm so sorry, Camilo, I didn't know, I should have known--"

"Don't be," Camilo gently interjected. "It's not your fault."

That gave Isabela some comfort, albeit not enough.

They hugged each other as they both cried. Isabela was certainly going to tell every other member of the family eventually--she had to, as much as she didn't want to--she knew Camilo wouldn't like it, but she couldn't let him go on suffering like this and eventually take his own life.

Things would get better, Isabela was sure they would.

A few minutes later, Camilo got up and excused himself to leave. Isabela knew where he was oing.

"I could talk to her for you, if you want," she offered.

"No, I have to do this," Camilo refused.

With a hand gripping the handle, he peeked into his sister's room, and instantly shut the door in fear.

"She's awake, isn't she?"

"Yup." He perspired rapidly, so much that it felt like he was in the desert. "Isa, I'm scared. What if Dolores hates me for my feelings?"

"Why would she do that?" Isa offered a warm and comforting hand on his shoulder. "I told you already, she thinks it's cute."

"That's condescending," Camilo winced. "I'd just really prefer it if they had never talked about it at all unless I wanted them to which I don't, plus, she already has him, so what's the point in picking on me for a love that will never be?"

"I suppose you're right," Isabela agreed. "Look, if you want to tell her, you can tell her. I won't get in the way. Seeya, I guess." Being friends with Camilo really was not something she was used to. "Bye." She waved awkwardly as spe prepared to leave, but CAmilo stopped her.

"Isa?"

"Yes?"

"Could you...wait out here, with me?"

"Of course."

"Thanks." Taking a deep breath and suppressing a giggle, he threw open the door and screamed "DOLORES I'M IN LOVE WITH MARIANO TOO BUT I'M STILL HAPPY FOR YOU ANYWAY AND I'M NOT JEALOUS AT ALL JUST REALLY SAD SO COULD YOU PLEASE NOT GOSSIP ABOUT MY CRUSH ON HIM WITH MIRABEL?!??! THANK YOU ADIOS!!!"

Turning off the lights in Dolores' room, he and Isabela ran off giggling. Dolores slammed open the door and hollered after them, "I KNOW YOU IDIOT FIND SOMEONE ELSE AND GET OVER YOUR PUPPY LOVE!" before turning on the lights and shutting the door.

Meanwhile, Agustin, who had been walking by holding a basket of laundry, was so shocked by the information he had just discovered that he dropped the basket on the ground, mouth hanging open. Camilo had a crush on Mariano? Since when? He took a while to process this before he realized that the basket had hit his feet. Hard. Wincing in agony, he hopped up and down on his left foot, before making his way down the stairs where his wife's desserts could heal him.

Isabela was still stunned by the news nevertheless. As the sky blackened and she and her primo kissed each other goodnight, she went to her room to cry.

She knew it wasn't her fault he felt this way, but she felt ashamed of the vitriol she hurled at him all day, everyday, all the same. This entire time she had been picking on a depressed, suicidal, and bulimic boy. Perhaps there was an alternate timeline where she wasn't such a piece of work to him. But she didn't live in that world. And she never would.

THE NEXT MORNING

Isabela struggled with whether this was right or wrong, but regardless, she knew this was what had to be done. After breakfast, during which she had noticed that Camilo barely ate any food at all, she made her way towards Dolores.

"Dolores I need your help with something."

"I'm all ears." Dolores' straight face suddenly creeped into a grin. "Hahah! Get it? All 'ears'? Because my gift is--"

"I don't have time for jokes, right now, Dolores," Isabela stated with firmness in her voice. "This is serious."

Dolores caught onto that and became serious, too. "What is it?"

"It's...about Camilo."

"Is this about the..." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Vomiting?"

"Yes, it is, it's about the vomiting. But I can't tell you right now, I need to tell an adult first."

"We are adults."

"Yeah, but you know what I mean. Someone with an adult brain. But Dolores, I need you to keep an eye and an ear on Camilo."

This time, Dolores did not crack an "ear" pun, for which Isabela was grateful. "Okay..."

"I need you to not let him out of your sight. Literally, Dolores. Please, I'm begging you."

"Isa, what happened?" Dolores asked concerned. "Did you two have a little chit-chat?"

"Yeah, I promise I'll explain later. Do you promise?"

"Yeah..."

"Pinky promise?" Isabela held up a pinkie. She knew this wasn't something she had done or heard since preteens, but she wanted to show how serious this situation was.

"I'm kinda worried, but...yeah." She locked little fingers with Isabela, as they bobbed them up and down. "Pinky promise to keep an eye and an ear on Camilo and not let him out of my sight. Or earshot."

"Or earshot," Isabela echoed, before wrapping both arms around Dolores as she kissed her. "Thank you Dolores. You have no idea how much this means to me." She let go of her. "I'll catch ya later. Bye!"

"Bye..." Dolores waved back awkwardly. Sensing that something was up, she shrugged and made her way over to Camilo, who was talking to Mirabel. They both seemed unhappy but for different reasons. If Isa said she would tell her later, she would. Isabela was no liar. She always kept her word.

"And that's why I don't like it. It hurts my feelings. I know Mariano will never be mine, you saying all that stuff you said behind my back makes it feel like you're rubbing it in intentionally, even if you don't mean it."

"But I--"

"It's also just plain weird. So please just...knock it off, okay?"

Mirabel crossed her arms and grumbled. "Okay..."

Camilo used this opportunity to crack a grin. "I mean, you wouldn't like it if I gossiped with Dolores about your love for Yamilet, now would you?"

Mirabel blushed. "W-we-well, we're dating now, so it wouldn't hurt my feelings?"

"Yeah, sure it wouldn't." He wrapped an arm around Mirabel's shoulder affectionately. "We can always talk about something else, after all! Whaddaya say, Dolores?"

Dolores squeaked. "Sounds pretty all right with me?"

"Great!" Camilo knew that Isabela had spoken to Dolores to look out for him. He had heard, while making his way towards Mirabel, even if Isabela didn't know. He couldn't go on, being bulimic like this. He was grateful for Isabela's support. He only hoped she hadn't told anyone else about these issues.

Isabela, meanwhile, made her way towards Pepa and Julieta, the two sisters chatting jovially.

"Mami, Tiá...can I tell you something?"

"Not now, cariña," Julieta kindly attempted.

But Isabela stood her ground. "Please, mami, it's urgent!"

"Are you sure, mija?" She turned to her eldest daughter.

"More sure than I've ever been of anything in my life. It's...about Camilo."

At this, they both began paying close attention.

"I guess you don't hate him anymore, is that right, mi sobrina?" Pepa asked genuinely.

"Yeah, it is. You see, we've been...talking. Last night, after dinner, I walked in on him in the bathroom, and he was...vomiting." Fear flickered in the female triplets' eyes as their eyebrows furrowed, and Isabela could sense their parental sense of...shame, as they looked at her, wondering if they had done anything wrong to cause Camilo to do the things Isabela had reported that he was doing. Isabela wished she could assure them that it wasn't their fault and never had been. But then she remembered what Camilo had said. Nobody cares. Not even Mirabel. If Camilo thought his best friend didn't care that he wanted to die, what would he say to his mom and tía?

"Why?" They asked simultaneously.

Isabela's breathing wavered rapidly as anxiety threatened to swallow her up. Still, she knew it was important to tell. She hoped that Camilo was far away from this scene, being distracted by Dolores into not suspecting a thing. She knew that he didn't want her to tell, even without him saying so, because he may be embarrassed by it, or feel like he lost a confidant. But she had to do so anyway.

"Well," she wondered what was the right way to go about this before eventually she settled on a solution. "He talked to me last night, and it turns out he's...depressed. And suicidal. He even had pills with him that he was using to make himself throw up! After every meal, at that. And did you know the real reason he doesn't like knives being around him? It's because he fears cutting his skin open with it! He swears he hasn't done it, and...and I believe him, because I saw his body and there were no scars in sight. But deep down he has the urge to self-harm. He cries himself to sleep every night. He told me. He' s miserable." Isabela took both of their hands in hers, pleading through her body language and eyes. "Please protect him and help him in anyway possible. I'm afraid he needs constant surveillance, possibly a therapist. He might harm or even kill himself. Don't let this happen to him." Isabela realized she was crying. But dammit, she couldn't help herself. She cared about Camilo, and that was something she thought she'd never say. But it was true. "Please."

The only thing she left out was Camilo's crush on Mariano. She didn't think that was important and to be honest was only the tip of the iceberg. She chose to spare him the embarrassment.

She waited for an answer, and her mother stepped forward. This was it. Isabela was going to get attacked and reprimanded, either for sharing this horrifying news or for not doing anything to stop Camilo's downward spiral sooner.

Without speaking, Isabela's mother enveloped her into a warm bear hug.

"We know, Isa, we know you care. Please don't blame yourself. We're heartbroken about this news, of course, but we are thankful that you told us."

"Yes!" Pepa piped in. "Thank you so much for telling us, sobrina."

"I'm just worried, that's all."

"We are too," Julieta warmly coaxed her daughter. "We are too. But trust me. We will talk to him. And eventually we'll work something out."

"That's nice to know." Isabela smiled.

After a while, they went back to talking, and Isabela went out to the backyard, where Dolores, Mirabel, and Camilo also were, playing cards on a picnic blanket, which Isabela found cute.

"I win!" Mirabel threw two peace signs in the air in victory, letting herself fall back onto the blanket. Dolores noticed Isabela and quickly got up and rushed over to her. Camilo noticed this and immediately grew worried. "Lola? Where are you going?"

"I...have to talk to Isa real quick. I'll be right back." Dolores rushed over to her cousin, locked arms with her instantly, and hurried back inside.

Uh oh. Isabela knew this urgency.

"Isabela, I heard you. I heard everything!" Isabela's expression dropped as she remembered the abilities Dolores had. How had she always forgotten? No wonder Dolores previously used to constantly feel overshadowed and overlooked. "I can't believe...I just can't believe I didn't know."

"It's not your fault, Dolores," Isabela placed her hands on Dolores' shoulder lovingly, doing everything in her power to comfort her the best that she could. "It's nobody's fault."

"Is that why Camilo was vomiting after dinner yesterday?" Dolores pleaded, begging for it not to be true. And yet she knew she couldn't change the past no matter how much she wanted to. "Because he..."

"Yes." Isabela wrapped Dolores in a hug. "Yes. Lo siento tanto, Dolores."

Dolores collapsed into Isabela's arms. And wailed. Her brother. Her own sweet, cute, funny, charming, beloved brother...was doing this to himself. She wondered how, for all her super-hearing, she never heard the cries for help, the screams of rage, the pleading in pain, as Camilo took all his misery out on his very own body. She felt like a failure of a big sister. How could she allow him to suffer this way and not notice? How could she let him believe that nobody cared? Camilo was hurting, and he didn't deserve to be hurt like this. She was determined to set things right, by any means possible.

EPILOGUE

It wasn't long before everybody found out. Agustin, Bruno, Felix, Alma, Luisa, even Antonio was spoonfed an incredibly saturated version of the true story, and finally, of course, Mirabel.

Let's just say a lot of hugs were given out.

Mirabel was crying buckets into Camilo's chest as she sat in his lap. "WHY AM I THE LAST TO KNOW?!" she cowballed. "Camilo, I care about you! I would never let you suffer like this if I had known! I would have done something to stop it!"

"I didn't want to be a burden to this family," Camilo explained, kinda mad at Isabela for telling the secret, to be honest, as much as it needed to be told. "I just thought I'd only make everyone miserable."

"You were never a burden to this family," Julieta said, joining in on the embrace. "And we love you. And although we are heartbroken at this news, we're happy that it got out, and are here to help you. We'd never let you suffer alone."

"If you're feeling sad, then just come talk to me and my animal friends!" Antonio perked up, and Camilo patted him on the head affectionately. "Chispi really likes you, you know."

"I like her, too," Camilo said.

"Just know that if there's ever a problem and you need to discuss it with someone, you can come to me, too, okay?" Felix asked, warmly hugging him as well.

"Me too," Alma added.

"My door is always open," Dolores warmly suggested.

"And no matter what, you are not alone," Agustin comforted his sobrino as well. "We're all here for you."

Camilo smiled. He had worried that he would only spread his misery to everyone and make no one want to be around the sad, lonely, starving boy with a crush on his sister's fiance, but that was far from the case here. Everyone welcomed him with open arms, and he realized that he certainly did belong in this family. He was never discarded, a burden, or out of place, and nobody hated him. Not even Isabela(anymore, at least). And though he wasn't instantly getting better right away--it would take a long time for him to heal, after all--he felt, for once in his life, that he mattered, he deserved better than the hell he had placed himself in, and he cared. It took two goddamn years for him to get to a point where he could even say this to himself, but he was glad that he finally could.

"Thank you, mi familia," Camilo beamed. "Thank you all for everything!"

"You're welcome," Isabela replied as she wrapped herself around him in a hug. "I love you, Camilo. We all love you."

"I love you, too," Camilo whispered. "All of you."

From that day on, things were slowly getting better for Camilo. He still had a crush on Mariano, but Dolores and Mirabel weren't giggling giddily about it anymore, which was nice. Speaking of which, he couldn't help but be flattered at the fact that Mirabel's friend Emiliana had a crush on him this entire time. The fact that someone desired him the way he desired Mariano made him very happy. She was kinda cute, now that he thought about it, and before long, his dreams consisted more and more of Emiliana and less and less of Mariano. He was also going to therapy for his depression and bulimia, and everyone was keeping close tabs on him to make sure he was taking proper care of himself, even Dolores hyperfixated on the sounds he made so that she could hear him at all times and know if and when he was abusing himself. Which felt invasive and bothersome at times, but Camilo knew exactly why it was necessary. He had also learned how to not cross people's boundaries. Trauma wasn't an excuse to be a dick to someone, after all. But he was gradually getting better, and that was more than enough of a reason to be proud.

Things were also looking up for Isabela, too! Not only had she fully patched things up with Camilo, but Proserpina had won the cactus-growing contest! Not only had her family been there to see her victory, but the Ortegas were as well. She was also learning sign-language to communicate with Monika more. She loved Monika more and more with each passing day.

Thanks to Camilo, La Princesa del Encanto went out-of-print.

And she and him were also bonding by growing broccoli together.

She and Dolores also took him to see Princesa Serafina after their bike ride. Surprise surprise, they all enjoyed it. Camilo even got an autograph from the actress who played Serafina, which made him quite happy and made the others happy as well. He made sure to get it pinned to his vanity mirror that same night, the mirror that Isabela had graciously helped him get fixed. He still had it to this day.

They also helped him with his makeup, Pepa even pitching in by buying him his own kit!

Overall, clear skies were ahead, and Isabela was glad for them. She could only imagine how much darker things would be if she had held onto her grudge against Camilo. Not very good.

She was glad she had taken Pepa's advice.

The next day was a Monday. Isabela was not a morning person, that was a well-known fact amongst the familia Madrigal. But today, as her alarm clock rang, Isabela sprung up with a newfound vigor as she raced to get ready, brushing her teeth and all that stuff, before she finally put on a green flowery carnation dress, one that matched, color-wise, to the one that Monika liked to wear. Scrambling to put on her green alpargatas, she grabbed her mochila and ran out the door, almost bumping into Camilo, who was wearing a pink flamingo ruana, on the way.

"Sorry, primito!" She yelled behind herself as she hurried out the door.

"No prob, prima!"

"You're in a rush today," Luisa playfully pointed out.

"I am! Can't wait to visit mi novia!"

Everyone--said "everyone" being Luisa, Camilo, and Mirabel--paused in this scene.

"Did she just say...?" Mirabel asked.

"I think she did!" Dolores popped up out of nowhere, shooting a grin at Isabela that killed her as she felt humiliated.

"Umm, whoops, my bad, I meant to say...mi amiga!"

"Yeah, nothing's official just yet," Camilo teased.

"Well, anyway, gotta go! Adios!" And just like that, she ran out the door. Everyone merely looked at her, looked at each other, and shrugged.

"The heart wants what the heart wants, I guess," Camilo said.

"I guess I'll go start my...cooking lessons," Luisa said as she made her way to the kitchen. Deep down, however, they were happy that she had found love, they hoped that it would last. Considering Dolores and Mariano were getting married soon, there was no doubt for Isabela and Monika's relationship.

Once Isabela was a far enough distance from Casita, she began a steady walking pace, catching her breath in the process. She took a while to take in the pretty flowers, the sun shining on her and the other villagers' faces, and the light and warm gust of air that gave her that blissful feeling inside, as well as the motivation to keep on her pursuit, respectfully of course.

Finally arriving at the Ortega's doorsteps, she felt dizzy at the fact that she was this close. She couldn't believe she was actually here.

Her heart fluttering in her chest like an Andean condor about to take flight, she rang the doorbell. She just hoped her gift was good enough.

THE END