Chapter Text
Oh God, now what did I say? Let me start over again
Could this be love at first sight? Oh wait, I said that before
- Love At First Sight, The Brobecks
1. first: Ludmila says "I love you" for the first time, and neither she nor Naty realises that.
“I HATE Alcancemos Las Estrellas,” Camila screams into her hands as her head falls. “It’s the worst song in the history of songs.”
“But you said you loved it yesterday,” Naty nudges her with her shoulder. “Where were we yesterday, Naty?”
“Lyon?”
“And where are we today?”
“Uh…Paris?”
“There’s your answer,” Cami replies as if the explanation she just gave made any sense whatsoever. “I didn’t know cities had the power to make you love or hate songs,” Violetta comments, picking apart her salad with a fork. She knows she’s way too anxious to eat, that always happens before a show, anyway.
The girls are all sitting in tonight’s venue’s waiting room, going over the setlist while trying their best to attempt a semi-regular dinner. Francesca and Violetta on one sofa, Ludmila and Naty on the other, and Camila on that same one, but as far from the two of them as possible.
“They don’t for normal people like us, sister,” Ludmila joins the debacle. “For dimwit hippies, however…”
“What did you just call me?”
“A hippie- or did you move on from that phase too now.”
“Ok, ok, girls, everyone, deep breaths,” Francesca interrupts before the two rivals start jumping at each other’s throats. “I know we’re all nervous about tonight, but it’ll be fine! It’s just- our first sold-out show in Europe. What could possibly go wrong!” The confidence vanishes as she mulls over her words. “Oh my God, it’s our first sold-out show in Europe.”
“Thank you for reminding us, Fran!” Camila growls, gesturing so abruptly that Naty instinctively jumps away from her. It does get her closer to her girlfriend who is sitting on the other side, though. “You are all such cowards,” Ludmila adjusts to Naty leaning into her, putting her hands into her hair and starting to mess with it like play-doh. “You’re acting as if you’ve never performed one day in your life. We do this every day, what’s the difference if we’re in…a giant stadium…full of people…waiting for us to mess up…”
“Ow, ow, ow- Ludmi!” Naty is forced to jerk away. “You’re hurting me,” she mutters, massaging her scalp. Ludmila retracts her hands, her brave face slightly dropping. “W-whatever. If you all screw up, then it makes me look even better, so. Be my guest.”
“Yes, yes, Ludmila, you’re the only brave one, and we are all scaredy cats. Now,” Vilu puts her miserable salad to one side, “we should really go rehearse.”
This new tour was taking a toll on every Studio kid, possibly even more than the previous one. More songs, more dates, countless weeks of rehearsing, endless hours of meeting fans, talking to people they didn’t know, signing and taking pictures and the fatigue was really starting to show. It wasn’t the first time around, but last year wasn’t even comparable to this.
Especially since it can be draining and especially tiring, but the worst thing to think about is how this is it. Once this tour is over, everyone goes their own way. No more Studio, since they completed their final year, and no more classes together, and no more teachers and no more little found family…it existed in group chats and in break times, but it was already starting to dissipate.
Well, for some.
For others, it had just started to blossom.
That Ludmila and Naty were eventually going to start dating, everyone knew. Their embarrassing PDA and longing stares and smiles were enough to drive anyone crazy the entire last year of the Studio, but then on tour, it got even worse, from the stage to the bus, they would simply never leave each other alone. So when they finally got together and decided to announce it with an insane PowerPoint presentation the colour choices of which got half the kids blind for a few hours, everyone just had to pretend to be surprised.
(But when they congratulated them, it was real. If those two idiots made it, then anything was possible.)
And in the end, they were such an adorable little couple it was nauseating…but in a good way. The group definitely preferred idiot girlfriends Ludmila and Naty to bickering menaces Ludmila and Naty. Somehow now their fights were reduced to a minimum. Naty would write thousands upon thousands of cavity-inducing love songs for her muse, and every time Ludmila would raise her voice, Naty just had to look at her for one second too long before the blonde broke again and forgot what she was angry for. And then they’d just start making out (and gradually make everyone leave the room).
They fit each other just perfectly, but everyone knew that already anyway. They had always been a match made in heaven, despite their best efforts to shove it deep into hell.
“Fine,” Ludmila gets up from her seat, too. Mas Que Dos is one of her favourite songs to perform, but she’ll die before telling that to Violetta. “Let’s go to the stage, I don’t want Pablo screaming at us that we’re late again- thank God we’re already in costume.”
“Yeah,” Naty looks at her smugly while taking a sip of water from her straw, her eyes focused on one specific part of her girlfriend’s back. “Thank God,” she grins to herself. Ludmila turns to her with a teasing gleam in her eyes. “Not in public, Vidal.”
“Yes, listen to your girlfriend, Vidal!” Fran exclaims urgently, knowing this kind of situation has happened one too many times in the dressing rooms right before a show. “I’m listening alright,” Naty sits back, taking another long sip. “I’m gonna miss you while you’re gone.”
“I’ll see you on stage.”
“My brightest star.”
“My knight in shining armour.”
“My-”
“My poor eardrums!” Cami has to scream to stop the two. “Ludmila, go.”
“Ugh, fine, you were killing the mood anyway!” Ludmila sticks her tongue out at the redhead, then turns to Naty again. “Fun’s ruined.” She shakes her head with a little smile appearing the second she lays eyes on her girlfriend again. “I love you. Bye,” she bends to kiss her forehead while she’s already on her way out.
“Bye,” Naty giggles, putting a hand where Ludmila’s lips have just been.
Violetta is walking a little further down the hall when Ludmila has to reach her, running so awkwardly her high heels make her stumble more than a few times. “Sorry, sister, but you can’t blame me too much. You do the exact same thing with León. At least Nat’s hot, yours is…” Her words trail off when Violetta stops walking, an unexplainable smile tugging up the corners of her mouth. “What?” Ludmila asks.
“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say that.”
Ludmila’s sigh comes from deep within her, “Look, I know you think you’re funny, but you don’t have to make a spectacle of every time I say sorry to you,” she crosses her arms, but Violetta’s smile doesn’t falter. “No, not that. To Naty.”
“Did I…apologise to Naty?” Ludmila furrows her brows. “Well…I should have, about the hair thing. Oh no, what if she hates me now- I have to go back and-”
“I’m not talking about that either! Ludmi-” Vilu’s eyes widen. “Wait.”
“What.”
“Was that the first time you said it?” The brunette puts one hand on her heart, “Like at all?”
“Will you stop- what are you talking about?!”
“Oh, my God! Oh my God!” Violetta starts jumping up and down, her skirt dancing along with her. “Have you lost your mind- oh, this is not the first time I hear Natalia complimenting my ass, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Ludmila throws her hands in the air, “You know what, I’m just gonna go ahead without you-”
“Ludmila, you just told Naty you love her.”
Ludmila has just started walking again when she comes to a halting stop. She mechanically turns to her sister again, and her every facial feature fills with horror as she takes in her words. “No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes!”
“No!”
“Yes yes yes! You love Naty!” Violetta grabs her in the tightest hug and starts singing, “You love Naty! You love Naty! You- I mean, that much has been obvious for years, but-”
Ludmila’s shrieks and squeals as she tries to free herself are similar to those of a caged rabid animal with a leg injury. “Get off me!”
“Sorry, sorry, I know,” Vilu finally lets her go. “I’m sorry, I just love love, and I love you two, and ah,” she fawns, “you love her, you love her-”
“Will you-” Ludmila hurriedly puts one hand on Vilu’s mouth to stop her shouting, “stop saying that?!” Something in her eyes gets Violetta to effectively quiet down. “I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did. You said I love you, bye-”
“Shhhh! Stop it!”
“What? It’s a good thing!”
Ludmila looks around her like she’s running from the police. “No, it’s not a good thing! I can’t just say that- it means something!”
“Yeah,” Violetta nods encouragingly, “it means you love her, Ludmi!”
Ludmila feels as if the entire world crumbles down on her in that one instant. Her shoulders sink and her eyebrows follow suit, as the hand she was pressing to her sister’s mouth slowly goes back to her side. “Holy shit,” she whispers. Violetta looks at her quizzically, trying to make sense of the bizarre reaction but coming out empty-handed: “Hey, hey, it’s-” She’s never seen someone so absolutely broken down at their expression of love, but then again, Ludmila’s not just anyone. “Ok, um, you wanna know about the time I first told León I love him?”
Ludmila raises an eyebrow at her, “You mean on your second date?”
“Hey,” Vilu pouts. “When you know you know.” And the worst part is that Ludmila gets that. “I know.”
“So why are you like…this? What’s so bad about telling her you love her?” Vilu’s voice turns even more hushed, “You…you don’t love her?”
Another fearful gleam lights up Ludmila’s eyes, and for a good moment, she doesn’t know how to answer.
Naty looks at Ludmila walking out of the room into the hall with the biggest grin on her face. “Isn’t she the best?” she coos, sinking back into the sofa, eyes closed and hands on her cheeks. Camila and Francesca observe the scene in pure awe: if they thought Naty was a goner before, now they just had to eat their words right up. The quietness of the room gives the curly-haired sweetheart the answer she was looking for.
“Wow, I didn’t know you were at this stage already,” Fran whistles. “Yeah, this might be the first time I even heard her say that word at all,” Cami adds, genuinely trying to come up with an instant in time where she could be proven wrong. But if not with Naty, with whom?
“What word?” Naty asks innocently, sprawled out on the sofa and really only paying them half attention. “Love,” Cami is forced to scoot even further from her when she only keeps taking more and more space. But as she hears that one, she’s wide awake again.
She jumps up. “Oh, no, we’re not at that stage yet, if you’re wondering.”
Fran purses her lips. “But-”
“Would I like to be? Yes, of course, but this is Ludmila’s first big thing since her mother…you know, and I just want her to be ready to say that to me and- and if I just come right out and put her on the spot like that, what if she freaks out and doesn’t know how to answer?” She realises she’s been talking to herself again, “Look, what I’m trying to say is, I want her to be ready to say those words. And I’m willing to wait as long as she needs me to.”
When she looks back at Fran and Cami and only sees them staring back flabbergasted, she wonders if she’s said anything wrong. “What? That’s a sound plan.”
“Oh, Naty,” Fran puts one hand on her forehead: it’s not a facepalm, but it might as well be. “You think I’m doing it wrong?”
“No, amiga, the fact is-” Cami tries to explain, but now Naty has let her fear roam free: “You think that’s still putting too much pressure on her? What should I even do- I really don’t wanna screw this up, she’s- I’ve been dreaming of this moment for so long! Oh my God, what if she never wants to say it?!”
Fran and Cami exchange one quick look. “Naty, she just said it,” they answer in unison.
Naty furrows her brows, “No, that’s-” Then she’s suddenly completely still. The other two girls stare at her, afraid to say one word more as if a sound could shatter her like glass.
“You…you heard that too?” Naty’s voice is so small, like it used to be years ago, when Ludmila kept her under her thumb - in a way, she still did, except now, in a completely different way. She’s heard the words a million times, dreamed them, so she had no doubt that she made them up, didn’t think she could believe her ears.
Francesca nods, staring daggers into Camila until she is forced to nod as well.
Naty’s classic wide eyes pop out, as she seems to have her whole life flashing in front of them for a few seconds. Then, just like that, she jumps up from her seat, tripping over herself as she runs out the door to look for Ludmila.
The velocity with which she moves causes her to collide violently with the opposite wall, but when she steadies herself and turns around, there is her girlfriend, pressing her stepsister against the other side of the corridor with a pulverising glare.
“Ludmi?” she calls out, her voice cracking a number of times that should be legally impossible for a word so short. Ludmila turns around and so does her long hair which crashes against Vilu’s face like an unforgiving wave. “Hi,” she smiles nervously.
“Hi,” Naty replies, her breath hitching. Now she realises she has no idea how to approach the conversation, so they just stare at each other from opposite ends of the hall, prey and predator, victim and tormentor. Dumb and dumber.
“Well, we’ll-” Ludmila eases her grip on Violetta, who seems to finally get a long breath in. “We need to go rehearse, so…uh, bye,” she turns again quickly, ready to floor it.
Naty waves awkwardly, but then her mind starts racing: “Ludmi, wait!”
“What?” Ludmila faces her with an agonised grimace. I love you too, Naty wants to say, but it’s stuck. She can’t. This is not the right way. “Bye,” she only echoes her girlfriend’s words.
“Yeah, bye,” Ludmila repeats and disappears behind the door to the stage. Vilu follows her, one last apologetic glance to Naty: “You’ll have to forgive her, she’s- it’s the nerves,” she chuckles, and chases after her sister.
Violetta reaches the theatre’s front stalls, and finds Ludmila running back and forth on stage: when she gets to the far left, she changes course and starts her way right. “Ludmila, will you please stop?”
“We need to rehearse. We need to rehearse, we need to- where is my microphone?!”
“It’s taped right next to your mouth-”
“Shut the fuck up, Violetta!” Ludmila snaps, and of course, only now does the microphone pick her voice up. “Where is everyone?! We have a show to put on!”
“Ludmila, breathe,” Vilu huffs, starting to climb up the stage. “We’re doing Mas Que Dos now, and the guys are joining us later for- Ludmila, I said breathe!”
“She hates me. She hates me! She hates me,” Ludmila doesn’t stop for one second, “and why wouldn’t she?! I ruined her life, so many times, oh God, oh God, Violetta, it’s all over now, I’ve done it now!” She lets out a scary cackle. “Ludmila, come on…” Vilu tries again, now closer to her but still unsure how to put an end to her crazed rampage.
“Why would I say that?! Stupid, stupid-!” she smacks her forehead aggressively. “It’s not stupid! You’re not stupid!” Vilu counters, but that sets Ludmila off and now she focuses her anger on the other girl. As she stops and spins on her heels, a finger finds its way mere millimetres from Violetta’s face. “You…” She seethes.
“Me?” Violetta furrows her brows.
“This is all your fault. All the time I’ve spent with you- look what you’ve done to me!”
“Oh my God,” Vilu runs her hand through her hair, speechless at her sister’s accusations. “Ludmi. I am not making you be in love with your girlfriend.”
“You’re putting words in my head! Otherwise, why is this the first time I ever tell her that?!”
Finally, the brunette positions herself in front of Ludmila and crosses her arms, giving her a pointed look that effectively manages to shut her up. When enough time has passed without her saying a word, Violetta starts from scratch: “Ludmila.”
“Yes?” Ludmila concedes, unable to meet her eyes directly. Violetta’s words are clear and concise, the way she would talk someone through an emotional crisis - which is effectively what this is. “Do you love Naty?”
Again, put on the spot, Ludmila remains speechless. But before she can open her mouth, another sound barges into the quiet of the audience. Ludmila turns around to find a head of fiercely curly hair staring back at her, small and timid, but her eyes are enormous, sparkling under the one-lit spotlight from the stage. She stumbled on one of the seats and now as the two sisters’ attention is devoted to her, she makes herself even smaller. “S-sorry,” she says. “I’m- I just wanted to make sure you’re ok.” And Vilu knows she’s not talking to her anymore - the most heartwarming of one-track minds. So she disappears behind a curtain, letting the two have their moment.
The blonde rolls her eyes, “I’m fine, and you shouldn’t be here. We need to-”
“I know, I know, you need to rehearse, but…” Naty walks a little closer to her girlfriend, and now looks at Ludmila directly from under the stage. Their height difference, incredibly exaggerated like this now, makes Naty feel like she’s looking up at the brightest star in the sky above her. Fitting, for Ludmila’s dress shines under the spotlight. Naty smiles fondly, even if this is how she always sees her, one way or another. And everything tells her this is the perfect moment to have with the girl she loves.
Ludmila stares daggers into her, knowing that if she speaks now, she might say something she’ll regret. And yet, Naty does speak: “Ludmi…did you say you…love me?”
And Ludmila’s heart starts racing. Here we go. Perfect moment. Perfect moment. Perfect moment.
If there’s one thing Ludmila Ferro knows how to do, it’s ruining perfect moments.
“Did I? Ay, Nat, you know I didn’t mean it. Love! Please,” she clicks her tongue, shaking her head, “I don’t do that kind of thing. Actually, I think now is as good a time as any to break this little thing off, so I can focus on my future career and you can focus on- whatever it is you do when I’m not there.” Somehow she manages to look directly at Naty when she says: “Love you? I don’t even like you. So can you please leave us alone now?”
Naty’s sparkling eyes lose all light: instead, it’s replaced by a dark, dark gleam that almost scares the girl up on the stage. But despite everything, there’s a little smile on her lips when she nods, only once. Almost like she did when her only job was to be her assistant, and Ludmila would send her away for some insane scheme. There’s no scheme now. Naty hears Ludmila’s words loud and clear, smiles, and nods. “Of course,” she whispers, her voice imperceptible. “I’m sorry.” And with that, she nearly runs out of the room, the clacking of her shoes against the wooden floor the only echoing sound in the venue.
Violetta, who was obviously watching the whole scene from her hiding spot, finally steps out of the shadows. But Ludmila doesn’t hear her, she probably doesn’t hear anything now, standing so perfectly still she could be mistaken for a wax figure. The younger girl has no idea how to even start a conversation - where to begin?
But there’s no need, because Ludmila spins around and Violetta gets to see her face blotchy, tears and mucus running down like waterfalls. A loud sob escapes her mouth, however dignified she tries to keep herself. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she clears her throat, as if that could help the unevenness in her tone, “I have to go fix my makeup.” She tries to make it sound like that is the most obvious plan of attack after what just happened, so much so that as she walks away back behind the scenes, Violetta still has no idea what to say. A door slams loudly - Ludmila’s in the dressing room.
A few seconds later, and Vilu swears everything is happening way too fast, Francesca and Camila run into the hall, worried expressions on both their faces. “What happened here? Naty just ran out of the theatre crying and screaming incoherent sounds,” Fran looks behind her, right the way Naty went out. “Yeah, what did Ludmila say?” Cami crosses her arms.
“Uhh…well…” Vilu puts a hand behind her head, “All the wrong things.”
“Shocker.”
“Look, you heard it too earlier, didn’t you, girls?” Violetta shrugs, trying to make sense of the scene she’s seen. “Didn’t Ludmila say she loves Naty?”
“Yeah, that much is obvious,” Francesca laughs awkwardly. “Maybe a little too much, even.”
“Well, apparently she said that without thinking, and then she thought about it, and said other things- without thinking…”
Camila narrows her eyes, “You’re not making any sense.”
“Yeah, neither was she. Ugh, amigas, why must love be so complicated? I wish everyone had it easy, like León and I.” The two girls send her a combined glare, which makes Vilu go: “What?”
“I don’t think you’re one to talk, Vilu…you and León are absolutely adorable, but- I wouldn’t use the word easy.”
“Hey-”
“Yeah, it wasn’t that many months ago when we were running around in those ridiculous wigs, Roxy-”
“Ok, but we’re not talking about me now, are we?!” Violetta makes her voice louder. “We need to fix this Ludmila and Naty issue before things get worse.”
“We?” Camila groans, already displeased enough with how much she has to endure the couple’s antics unwillingly. “Wait, wait, what do we have to do with their fight?!”
“They’ll never solve it themselves! Would you rather have them mope around the whole time?” The brunette sits at the edge of the stage, and her two friends join her. “Can we all just agree they’re better together than apart?”
“Yes,” Fran answers way too quickly. Then both girls start looking at Cami, who sighs. “You know I am still for Naty’s emancipation, despite everything.”
“She doesn’t count, she has a personal vendetta against the tarant- erm, I mean, Ludmila.” Fran tries to correct her slip-up with a forced smile, which makes Vilu giggle: “Hey, I’m not asking you two to be a-ok with everything Ludmila does now, I know what she put you through. Hell, I know what she put me through, and she’s my sister and I love her, but I haven’t just magically forgotten everything she did to me these past few years. But if there is one thing I know, it’s that those two are the most lovesick couple I’ve ever met.”
“Yeah, Naty is the love part and Ludmila is the sick part.”
“Which means,” Violetta promptly ignores Camila’s snide remark, “if we help them, we are helping ourselves first of all. I’m not ready for an entire tour of single Ludmila again. Remember what her pining stage was like?”
At that, both girls make an irrational horrified sound. “Ok, ok, you made your point!” the redhead raises her hands in defeat. “What do we do?”
“Well, to fix something we should know what happened first,” Fran counters. She turns to Vilu, “What were they even fighting about?”
“Ludmila told Naty she loves her, and then covered herself with a bunch of mean things that, truly, only Naty could believe. I think their issue here is that they need to trust in each other’s love, you know? They need to believe they-” Violetta’s brown eyes widen, as she clasps her hands together. “I got it.”
“What?”
“I got it! I know how to make everything better!” A big grin takes hold of her mouth, and Fran and Cami can’t help but join in their friend’s infectious energy. “Ok, what do we do?” Cami concedes.
“It better not involve wigs,” Fran scratches the back of her head as if Fausta’s ghost was right there to haunt her. “No, no, Fran. It involves music.”
While Camila is sent to find Naty wherever she ran off, and Francesca has to go inform everyone of this new setlist change, Violetta reaches the dressing room, finding the door obviously locked. “Ludmila,” she knocks gently.
“Leave me alone,” a small voice barks back, followed by a loud blow of the nose. Violetta thinks the situation is ironically sweet: she’s working to fix the love life of the girl who relentlessly tried to ruin hers just the other year. Life surprises you like that. “You can’t just lock yourself in the dressing room, we need to get ready and-”
“Get ready somewhere else! Didn’t you see what just happened?! I’m not coming out of here anytime soon- and do not make any stupid jokes, I’m warning you.”
“Ok, you don’t need to come out…but will you let me in?” Ludmila doesn’t say anything, which only lets Vilu add: “It’s just me. She isn’t here.”
A few slow footsteps culminate with the sound of the door unlocking: Ludmila’s puffy red eyes look through the small crack of the door. “Well?” Violetta grows expectant. The blonde sighs, “Fine.” The door swings open, “But it’s only because I need someone to do my makeup.”
“I’m not doing your makeup.”
Ludmila rolls her eyes, “You’d suck at it anyway.”
As Violetta walks into the dressing room, she finds everything surprisingly still in its place: after a messy breakup, she wouldn’t have blamed it on her to throw anything and everything to the ground. Only one item isn’t the way it was before: one of Naty’s flannels is wrapped around Ludmila’s shoulders, and when Vilu notices, the blonde only clings to it tighter. “I fucked up.”
Not wanting to make things worse, Vilu only purses her lips, trying to look elsewhere, which only further irritates Ludmila. “You don’t need to go easy on me, sister, I fucked up!”
“Well…yes, but-”
“But? Now what?” Ludmila walks to one of the chairs, on which she sits hugging her knees. “I ruined everything. Did you see her?”
“You just didn’t know what to do…”
“No, Violetta, you are under some strange impression that I am not the huge mess that I actually am! You think I have any idea what I’m doing with Natalia?! She’s this- this perfect, like, straight-out-of-a-dream girl, and I am…well, me.” She spins her chair all the way to the other side so she doesn’t have to face Vilu, “This was bound to end, anyway. Better sooner than later.”
“Ludmila, it can happen. You can fuck up, it’s allowed in relationships.”
“Hah, you would know.”
“…I don’t think you’re in a position where you can make fun of me.”
The blonde sniffles, and takes a deep breath. “I want her to know how much I…you know,” she chooses her words carefully, like she’s putting together a puzzle. “But she’s never gonna want to see me again.”
“Oh, come on, Ludmila, it’s Naty. She can’t wait to see you again.”
“Violetta, be serious. I just broke up with her, in a cruel way, too.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” When Ludmila briskly turns to look at her, Violetta only shrugs with wide eyes. “What? You two have been unofficially dating for a century.”
Ludmila doesn’t even have the strength in her to argue with that. “So? What do I do now?”
Francesca suddenly barges in, breathless after probably having run around to talk to every executive she could find. “They said yes,” she weakly puts her thumb up, “we’re good to go!”
Vilu smiles brightly. “Perfect, thanks, Fran!” But Ludmila only furrows her brows, suspicions clear in her dark stare. “Good to go for what?”
Violetta’s smile turns a little mischievous as she finally lets in on the plan the person who’s supposed to be the main star of it. With every word, Ludmila’s grimace grows. “So you want me to make a fool out of myself.”
“No, we want you to make a big gesture.”
She only scoffs at that. “Please! Natalia doesn’t like big gestures!”
“Are you sure? Or did you just never make one for her?”
And that does make Ludmila reflect. That is why the sudden, subconscious confession didn’t work - it felt too small, and too inconsequential. What Naty deserves is something that everyone can see. What Naty deserves, is for everyone to know how much she is loved by her girlfriend.
Momentarily her ex, but she’ll fix it.
So with her heart racing, and the fear of this plan not working anyway clogging the reasonable part of her brain, Ludmila sighs. “I’m going to regret this later.” She wipes at one of her cheeks, her hand immediately darkening with the smeared mascara. “Let’s do it.”
For her Nat, this and much more.
As the concert unravels, everything seems to be going smoothly: the enthusiastic crowd fills the Studio kids’ hearts with confidence song after song, banger after banger. There is only one thing that seems to be evidently missing: Naty’s goofy grin. She is still smiling as she joins the group numbers, but it never reaches her eyes, and it’s clear to see that there’s something wrong with her. Her energy is one of the most palpable things up on stage, and now it’s just gone.
The worst part is the Peligrosamente Bellas number, known for the undeniable chemistry between the two parts, but Naty simply refuses to look at her partner, and when they’re supposed to go and hold hands as they walk closer to the audience, she puts hers on her hip. Ludmila steals quick glances at her worriedly, already petrified at the thought of the plan not working. Is this it? Is Naty mad at her forever now? She wouldn’t blame her, those horrible words would’ve hurt anyone.
But the plan is already in motion, and Ludmila has to believe that it’s worth something.
So when Alcancemos Las Estrellas is over, Naty runs out of the stage, after a scowling Camila. “This fucking song,” she mutters to herself, before she notices the other girl: “What are you doing here?”
“What? Isn’t Vilu supposed to go up next with-”
“Oh- oh! Yeah…change of plans, Naty, actually, it’s been moved to the last song for tonight because…um, Vilu isn’t feeling too well. So right now…we’re supposed to be doing the choreo for Supercreativa.” Camila’s smile is very unconvincing. “Crap. Let’s move.”
Naty has no time to question her words, and they’re back on stage again.
It all goes as planned, up until the very last second of the very last song, and once again, Naty, glad to be able to finally drop her fake smile, walks off behind the scenes - but someone stands in her path. It’s Cami, Fran and Vilu, blocking her way out. “Girls, it’s been a long day-”
“Naty, just wait.” Vilu winks. “Yeah, I think you should go back,” Fran nods to the stage urgently. Naty looks back from the curtains.
From the other side of the stage, she sees Ludmila staring right at her, a guitar in her hands. Her face is emotionless, and Naty freezes. “W-what is this?” she asks, her voice shaky.
“She just wants to tell you how she really feels,” Violetta says, but Naty is not satisfied with that answer: “No, no, she’s already told me how she feels and I- I’ve had enough of her for today.”
“Well…I think it’s worth it to give her one last shot,” Vilu grabs her two friends and disappears into the shadows. But when Naty wants to follow them, the first few chords of a very recognisable song start to play out above the crowd’s - albeit confused - applause.
And then she hears it. “No sé si hago bien, no sé si hago mal,” a soft voice sings, shyness clear in her. “No sé si decirlo, no sé si callar,” she continues undeterred, even if every word feels like a landmine has been barely avoided.
“¿Qué es esto que siento tan dentro de mí? Hoy me pregunto si amar es así.” Something that was always clear in Violetta’s version of this song was the naivety of that first love, the blossoming of those feelings for the first time. Vilu’s real first big break into the Studio at that failed recital. As Naty finally gathers all her courage to look back and sees Ludmila, all alone on that stage, just her and her guitar, still looking only at her, she can’t help but see the similarities between her and her stepsister.
Ludmila finally knows she has Naty’s full attention, and continues, her heart beating a little faster in her chest. “Mientras algo me habló de ti, mientras algo crecía en mí,” it feels nice to be stripped down of everything now, only her own fingers strumming on the chords to guide her. The guitar, and the girl she’s singing to. Naty carefully takes a few steps closer, and Ludmila sees it happen in front of her, the light slowly but surely reappearing in those gorgeous brown eyes of hers, the ones she’s lost herself so many times in. “Encontré las respuestas a mi soledad, ahora sé que vivir es soñar,” the words just keep coming out by themselves, somehow this song is the easiest she’s ever sung.
And Naty is right next to her now, not quite smiling, but her mouth is slightly hung open, as if she couldn’t believe what was happening in front of her. That reaction alone convinces Ludmila that the chorus is the part she’s supposed to sing the loudest.
“Ahora sé que la tierra es el cielo,” she bends her head down slightly so she can take Naty’s face in entirely, their eyes connecting at once like magnets, and there is simply no way to separate them now. “te quiero,” Ludmila sings once, “te quiero,” twice. Honestly, she’d deserve it a million times more, but that’s how the song goes for now. “Que en tus brazos ya no tengo miedo, te quiero, te quiero.”
Naty won’t wait anymore, now she has to join in, or what is she here for? “Que me extrañas con tus ojos, te creo, te creo…” There it is. There’s that big smile of hers. Ludmila feels her eyes stinging. Oh, how she’d missed that smile, even for just a day.
Naty nods imperceptibly, and Ludmila knows she’s asking for permission to sing the second verse. As she grants it to her, and Naty begins her part, she wipes a tear away from her cheek tenderly. Her thumb on her skin immediately makes Ludmila want to cry even more, as she lets her head rest against Naty’s hand.
They stay like that, up until the chorus, and then their voices blend together again, high and low, soft and raspy, Ludmila and Naty, the endearing lovesick fools.
“No sé si hago bien,” Ludmila sings with a smile. “No sé si hago mal,” Naty continues, a giggle in her sweet voice. “No sé si decirlo, no sé si callar,” they finish in perfect unison, and Naty can’t resist anymore, as she swings the guitar over the other girl’s back and wraps her arms around her, crashing her lips against Ludmila’s like they’d never kissed before, and as if they’d kissed in every lifetime they’d ever lived. Ludmila grins into the kiss, not even hearing the crowd roaring with enthusiastic applause as the curtains close in front of them: in a way, though multiple speculations had been made, this was their proper coming out as a couple.
When they pull apart, Ludmila’s smile only grows as she puts her hands on her girlfriend’s cheeks. “I’m sorry. What I said earlier was awful, I- I didn’t mean any of it, you know. Ours is not just a little thing, and you are such an important part of my future, it’s just that-”
“No, no, it’s my fault,” Naty puts one hand of hers on Ludmila’s. “I pressured you into saying it, right? It’s ok. You don’t have to love me already. You don’t have to love me ever, for that matter-”
Ludmila’s obnoxiously loud laughter cuts her short, and as much as Naty loves that laughter, she’s too confused to join in. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
“Oh, Nat! Didn’t you just hear what I sang to you?” Ludmila shakes her head between breaths, “Of course I love you. I love you so much, it scares me. That’s why I tried to back out.” Then her voice gets smaller, “But my love is stronger than my fear. So as much as I may be scared of…these feelings sometimes, I know you’re the only one I want to feel them with. I love you, Natalia Vidal, I love you.” She laughs again, “God, it feels so good to say it out loud! I love you! I love you!”
She starts to attack Naty’s face with kisses, on her cheeks, then on her nose, and then finally on her mouth. But when she sees she’s not being reciprocated in enthusiasm, she comes to a screeching halt. Oh no. Naty’s stunned, unable to do anything but just stare at the girl in front of her.
“I’m- I’m so sorry. I thought you- we- ugh, I only thought of myself again, didn’t I?”
All at once, Naty shakes her head furiously. “No, no, Ludmi, don’t! I just…I never thought I’d see the day I’d get the girl of my dreams to tell me she loves me.”
Ludmila’s grin turns even more sheepish. “I’m the girl of your dreams?”
“You’re my brightest star,” Naty whispers. “And you’re my knight in shining armour,” Ludmila replies matching her hushed tone. Before they kiss again, though, she looks at her expectantly. “What?” Naty questions, puzzled.
“Well, I just told you I love you, didn’t I?”
Naty giggles as a blush pervades her cheeks. “Still hard to believe, but yes.”
“So when I tell you I love you, your answer is…?” Ludmila’s stare betrays her composed demeanour and for one moment, Naty sees her fear. Her own eyes widen. “Oh, I’m sorry, I- I-”
“It’s ok if you’re not ready to say it back,” the blonde tries to tease to hide her insecurity. This time, it’s Naty’s own loud laugh that fills the stage. In her head, she realises she was looking for a perfect moment for this to happen, but what moment could be more perfect than the one when she’s holding her beloved in her arms? “Oh, you idiot. I love you so much. Never change.”
Just like that, Ludmila’s worried look vanishes, and the enamoured one is back. “Wasn’t planning to,” she goes to close the distance again, but something else stops her this time. “Oh, fuck off.”
“Me? W-why?”
“No, not you- the hippie was right. I’ve always hated Te Creo and look at me now…cities do have the power to make you love songs.”
Naty can only smile and hold in a laugh. In her heart, she knows that it’s not cities that have that power, but the people you sing the songs for - and with.
But it’s much funnier to let Ludmila think Camila was right about something.