Chapter Text
“I think it’s good that you’re worried, Natalia.”
At this point, it wouldn’t surprise Naty if she found out Ludmila could smell despair from a mile away, if her ears could pick up interferences of Naty’s fidgety heartbeat whenever she deemed it more convenient. On one angle of the main Studio hall, which seems to be spinning on itself with how dizzy the sight in front of Naty is making her, Ludmila slowly marches to where her prey is standing: the delicate shade of pink of her sleeveless shirt contrasts her pale complexion and paler bleached hair quite nicely, her black skirt accentuating those long legs she’s been genetically blessed with.
If Naty didn’t know her as well as she does, the cross she bears, she’d almost give in to the pitiful look she’s giving her right now, brown eyes narrowed and afflicted, as if the words pained her to say out loud. Hands clasped together, almost cracking her fingers with anticipation, Ludmila, just like every day of her life, wakes up and chooses violence. “Francesca is not as good a girl as you think.”
Naty steals another glance at Fran, the sight that’s made her sick in the first place: she is with Maxi, giggling and chatting about God knows what. Which isn’t a problem in and of itself, but they’ve been hanging out nonstop for the past few days, to the point where Naty nearly forgets he’s supposed to be her boyfriend. She barely hears from Maxi at all, nowadays, and when she texts him, he simply ignores her. He’s supposedly super busy with this new project, that wouldn’t you guess, forces him to be with Francesca twenty-four-seven. Naty huffs. The words leave her throat before she can control them, paranoia running rampant no matter how rationally she tries to see the whole ordeal. “Do you think Maxi and Francesca…?”
It’s a ridiculous thought, it’s a truly irrational fear hitting her now that things with Maxi are going so well, now that she’s finally happy with him after the last two rocky years spent…trying to prevent Ludmila from ruining her relationship. Now, maybe coming to her asking for advice was not the smartest move. But who else would Naty ask? None of her friends have exactly raving reviews when it comes to experiences with guys. Out of all of them, Ludmila seems to be the one to have hit it off the most stable-y with Federico, so maybe her head’s in the right place now, relationship-wise.
Far be it from Naty to believe Ludmila Ferro of all people has her best intentions at heart. But at this point she’s been caught so thoroughly in the tarantula’s web it’s pretty futile to complain. “Oh, come on, Nat,” the blonde’s voice is as heartwarming as it can probably get, “you’re telling me you’ve never noticed anything strange going on?”
“Not until now! But-” Naty stutters, the thought so intoxicating to her brain it’s like her mind is quickly scrambling to find any instances in time when the two have talked at all and transform it into a tale of secret, forbidden lovers where Naty is the evil witch who keeps Maxi locked up, far, far away from the princess he really desires. Ludmila sees it in her eyes, the delicious look of abandonment. Like her own personal field in its most fertile season, it’s time to plant the seeds. “So you may have seen something.”
“I’ve seen them hug!” Naty protests. At this point she’s actively fighting against her own mind - and Ludmila’s psychic powers of seduction. “But hey, that’s normal! Friends hug.”
“So, for you it’s normal. Do you see me, Ludmila, go around hugging my friends the whole day?” Ludmila shrugs, tone as questioning as if she was trying to reason with a toddler.
The stare Naty meets her with is unimpressed to put it lightly. If Ludmila’s trying to make sense of her new theories using herself as an example, maybe this is exactly the kind of thing Naty needed to shut this down for good. “You don’t have any friends,” she interjects with ease, just as easily as it is to add the little stinger that makes Ludmila’s eyes narrow, “and you never let me hug you.”
Ludmila reconsiders now, calculating her next clumsy move. Oh, Natalia Vidal. Not a friend, not an enemy, but a secret third option. What to call her, Ludmila still isn’t sure. Assistant is outdated now, and classmate is too formal for someone who knows her like Naty knows her. There can’t be a word to describe everything Naty is to her, the good and the bad, which is why Naty is Natalia or Nat but never friend, never bestie or whatever new term Violetta is coming up with this week to parade in everyone’s faces just how great she is at making the world her oyster. Codigo Amistad? Sounds like a cheap brand of cereal they’ll find out later in life is the reason why they got diabetes in the first place.
Naty looks at her attentively, eyes wide looking for a response, and as if reacting to a magnet, Ludmila’s hand travels all the way to her head in a weird pat. Then, as she tries to slide it away, running down Naty’s cheek like she’s wiping something from her palm on Naty’s skin, the other girl leans into the touch. Ludmila’s quick to retract her arm, and Naty nearly stumbles, having to catch herself after having leaned too much on that hand. After that, she puts her hands on her hips, looking down like a wounded soldier. And Ludmila’s miscalculated gesture has actually put her right where she needed her to be. That’s what happens when you’re a natural genius. “Bueno, Nat, how about you, for example…do you hug Broduey all the time?”
Naty shakes her head immediately, the thought pretty amusing in the second it stays in her head. Broduey might not be an awful hugger, actually. She wouldn’t mind his arms around her - but they don’t have that kind of closeness…in all fairness, they’ve probably talked alone once, or twice, to be generous, in the entire time they’ve known each other. Naty likes hugs and physical attention, but from specific people.
“Do you hug León?” is Ludmila’s second example, and this one, Naty wonders about for a second. Maybe. Maybe it happened in the time they were a little clique. He knows a lot more about her than he should, but that’s because he’s a natural listener. Even if he looks done with everything and everyone most of the time, one thing’s for certain: every time Naty went to him for comfort after a fight with Ludmila, he never turned her down. It was actually pretty funny how he’d always take her side against his own girlfriend-at-the-time’s. Even though they’ve lost touch recently, he is still incredibly reliable and Naty wouldn’t mind a hug from him. Judging from Violetta’s ecstatic expression every time she falls into her boyfriend’s arms, he must be quite good at it.
“And please,” Ludmila’s head shakes with all her blonder than blond ringlets and curls dancing to the beat of her disbelief, “tell me you don’t hug Andrés.” Naty’s grimace is genuine: if she were to touch Andrés with a six-foot pole, he’d take it as enough proof that they were dating. Love the guy, but from a respectful distance.
“No, you don’t,” Ludmila concludes matter-of-factly, “but your boyfriend does. Well, he’s on his way to being your ex-boyfriend, Natalia. Doesn’t it look suspicious- doesn’t it look strange to you, Nat?” It’s incredible how much emphasis and pathos she’s putting into her every word, and in another life, she would’ve made a great saleswoman. The pitch is inviting and Naty’s so close to shaking the devil’s hand, but still, still. She knows Maxi, and she knows Fran, and they would never, ever do this to her. In secret, nonetheless. Maxi would confront her about it, wouldn’t he? And Fran just doesn’t seem like the secret relationship sort of person.
Come on, come on, take the bait, Ludmila implores her with her eyes. What exactly is the point of all this? Maybe a bit of mindless fun, maybe the fact that Naty and Maxi were a couple she never ever liked together as much as she tried to be a good friend. Or maybe Naty just liked to champion third secret options like they were that blue flannel bandana she’s sporting right now, holding her curls together. She knows how to rock a mean bandana, and not many people can say that. She has the right head size. And she’s hot in blue - but Ludmila’s been telling her that for ages. Glad to know she’s listening. Occasionally. When needed.
Stick to your guns, Ludmila Ferro, you’re the county’s most feared pistolero. Everyone knows what Naty’s greatest weakness is, and Ludmila has been granted the commodity of only having to look as far as her mirror to find it. “I only say this because I love you…” the sentence starts, casually as if she might’ve slipped it in by mistake, the sweetest drop of venom.
Naty perks up, eyes lighting with something otherworldly. Ludmila’s not one to say such a word so randomly. I love you. So mean a lie. So unattainable a truth. But honestly, with all they’ve been through Ludmila might as well love her, in a way that hurts and mauls and only feels right once in a blue moon. Naty got over that ages ago, so when the blonde says something that sounds like or resembles anything along the lines of I love you, it’s quickly archived in that unorganised part of her brain that bears the name of her absolutely idiotic best friend. And the instant I love you too trigger has been discontinued a while back.
Then of course it’s back to business, and Ludmila’s off with another one of her astronomically confusing metaphors. Honestly, if this is what she’s saying to Naty only because she loves her, then even when she was pining for it, they never stood much of a chance. “This relationship has less of a chance of survival than a comet in a closed heliocentric orbit, Nat.” Sure thing, Jan.
“So- so what? I don’t get what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about the sun,” Ludmila raises one pinched hand to the side of her face, “I’m talking about the comet in orbit,” the other pinched hand to the opposite side, “I’m talking about the closeness, the heat, the destruction-” her hands collide together, mimicking an explosion and yeah, no, this made no sense. Leave it to Naty to give this psychiatric case the time of day. “I’m talking about your relationship,” Ludmila gives up, clearly seeing the disinterest in Naty’s dazed stare. Never mind then. Maybe she can try later and come up with a better excuse to bother her. “Do something, I beg you, Natalia,” she groans, walking away just as fast as she finishes her ineffective astral projection of an allegory.
And damn it, she’s right. Somehow. Naty can’t wallow in her misery like this, can’t have Maxi running away with another girl - or even worse, can’t let herself make up scenarios upon scenarios, each more malicious and unrealistic than the one before. Maxi wouldn’t. He’s no cheater. He’s…he’s the best guy Naty knows, and the one she loves, and bless the world for Maxi, honestly. He doesn’t deserve to get caught up in her own rambles, or even worse, in Ludmila’s rambles. She’d promised to take it easy on the two of them, but her promises hold the same weight as a feather broken in two.
Who knows why she gave Maxi such a hard time. He never did anything to her except exist - and well, wear a couple t-shirts that could’ve counted as punches to her sockets. But Naty can get over it, and she’s the one being close enough to not being able to take her eyes off sometimes, so what’s Ludmila’s issue?
Oh, the queen of rhetorical questions. When has Ludmila ever taken anything in stride, much less anything that concerned her own personal assistant who couldn’t have a personal life outside of her.
Do something, I beg you. Time to be proactive. Time to march right up to Maxi and Francesca and clear things up, now that she can catch them both together and smooth everything out. Just…one foot in front of the other, all the way to where they’re standing. Giggling. And chatting.
And Maxi jokes and giggles and chats with Naty too. Something is off.
Fran is so pretty. And so talented. And Naty’s done for unless she does something.
So her legs take her in the exact opposite way, trailing after Ludmila, whose words still echo in her brain. “Something like what, Ludmila?!” she follows closely, one time she wouldn’t mind getting ordered around again just like old times. She’s determined to not let this - him - go so easily, they’ve got a good thing going on, they’re happy. And maybe Ludmila’s words did come from a place of love and she wants to help. Plus, if it’s just another one of her schemes, Naty can just walk away and do things her own way.
Nothing could possibly go wrong. Operation get Maxi back is a go.
But first, operation find Ludmila. She disappears behind a wall of the Studio as Naty runs after her, not showing up until apparently Naty’s performance with Camila is so lacklustre she feels summoned, talking her usual tired speech about how they’re both untalented losers and Naty tunes her out as soon as she recognises that cat-like gleam in her eyes. Yeah, no.
Ludmila says Naty has to do something. Nay, she begs her to do something. Now, if she could be so kind as to go a little bit further into detail. But damn it, if she won’t help, then Naty will have to come up with a plan on her own. When it came to ridiculous schemes for ridiculous reasons, no one held a candle to Ludmila, but with all the time they spent together hopefully the student has absorbed enough insanity to become the teacher.
Maxi wants help with something over at Art Rebel - honestly Naty can’t really be bothered to know what that is, only that her ears start ringing when his first thought is immediately that Francesca should come and help. She looks unenthusiastic about the proposal, and obviously Naty chimes in, eager to help her boyfriend, but he insists - he insists! as if, as if Naty wasn’t the best at tasks. Any and all tasks! - for Fran to tag along. From the way she has to be nearly begged to give in, the dynamic paints itself clear in Naty’s head: Fran doesn’t care for or like Maxi in that way, and he’s the one with a not-so-secret crush. Now, that’s an art Naty’s mastered. Has he no shame?
“Maxi, the next time you need help, ask me, I’m your girlfriend. I mean, that’s why I’m here, that’s all I’m saying,” she mutters, hands on hips - an involuntary gesture of when she’s positively pissed off. And he has the audacity to roll his eyes.
Oh, that’s it.
So what does Naty do when she’s upset?
Try to make it all better, of course. There is nothing she does worse than revenge.
Over a short break between rehearsals, she grabs her computer and occupies a bathroom stall, and makes hasty phone calls to every pseudo-fancy restaurant she knows off the top of her head, or the ones Ludmila’s taken her to enough times to get her to know what she can and can’t afford. As yet another annoyed snobbish restaurant guy turns her down claiming she should’ve called ages ago to get a table at insert-unnecessarily-french-name-here (none of these places really served French food, anyway) her computer shows her the result of her research, a long and detailed list of every cinema in the zone. The second she strikes miraculous gold with a run-of-the-mill bistro, she showers the random person on the other side of the phone with a waterfall of out-of-breath thank yous, and already her data’s wasting away on another phone call.
“Two tickets for the most romantic movie you have on tonight, please,” she says with the most misplaced confidence possibly ever registered on the planet. After whatever poor worker who happened to take her call is done barely holding their snickering in, she’s redirected to the cinema website. “Tickets are booked online, lady,” the worker says as if they were helping their internet-allergic grandma. Oh well. Hopefully, there won’t be much movie-watching if everything goes according to plan.
She sees a pink hotel on a poster and that’s enough for her to think it’s a rom-com. Phase one: check.
Phase two: set the mouse trap. Phase three: unnecessary, the cheese will be so delicious that-
“Call me on the phone and let’s talk later,” Maxi rushes out the door the second he sees her.
Yikes.
“No, no, no,” she implores him, holding him steady by the wrist and dragging him back into the classroom. Maybe she was naive by thinking the prospect of talking to her alone would get him to stop avoiding her, but oh well, Fran must just be irresistible. “It’s that- I planned our entire evening. First of all, we’re gonna have lunch, then we’re going to the cinema to see a movie- and uh- then I’ll think of something else-”
“But Naty, I can’t this evening,” Maxi is already slinging his backpack back over his shoulder. He’s slipping through her fingers so easily it’s almost comical. “I have to rehearse all evening long, ok?” he says, like she’s supposed to know. She is supposed to know, but can’t she think it’s unfair anyway? “Can’t you rehearse after watching the movie?”
“No, Naty, because I have a million things to do, and I have two days to prepare this, not one second more.”
“Are you in this much of a hurry?” Naty asks hopelessly. There’s still time to change your mind. “I’m in a super hurry,” Maxi marches to the door once again. “Please, I have to go back to my house, then I have to look for a few things at Art Rebel, and after that I’m rehearsing with Fran.”
Oh, there it is. Naty’s laugh is a bitter reflex. “I knew it,” she smiles, aware that something’s pre-emptively pricking at her eyes. “What do you mean, you knew?” Maxi says. “If you knew, why did you organise this whole lunch thing?!”
“I knew you were going to dump me to go to Fran again.” Her eyes are wild and manic, and she grabs him again, a toy that needs to stay put. “But that’s not going to happen, because you’re going to stay here, and we’re going to go have lunch, and then to the cinema to watch a movie or- or something, that’ll come to me later.”
“But you didn’t ask me at all! You set this all up on your own!” Maxi shouts, exasperated. “Because I knew,” Naty points an accusatory finger his way, “that if I asked you…” God, arguing was never her strong suit. She’s already fizzing out, eyes glossy, as if she did anything wrong except love her boyfriend.
“That if you asked me, what? What?!” Maxi sighs. He doesn’t like arguing either. “Look, let’s leave it here, we’re going nowhere with this. I’ll see you later, bye,” he grabs her by the cheeks, kisses her on one, and leaves her almost spinning, lips still pursed as if he’ll walk back and give her a proper one. But he’s off. Off to his better life. Off to his perfect girl, the one he really wants. And Naty’s left standing in the middle of the classroom like an absolute fool.
Was it sharks who could smell blood? Or tarantulas?
Either way, Naty can count the seconds on her hand. One, two, three-
“Problems with your boyfriend?” Ludmila struts into the room like she’s won a contest. Hands clasped together, tone uncannily trying to be sweet - or to convey a solemn war comrade. She’s not the best actress in either case. “He stood me up for Fran again,” Naty says through gritted teeth, hands back on her hips again as her reflex imposes.
“You know what, Natalia?” Ludmila walks right up in front of her, shaking her head. Disappointed but not surprised. “I’m getting bored, we’ve talked about this already. If Francesca’s bothering you, do something!”
And there’s that something again. Are their definitions of that word so radically different? She can’t think about it much for her tone is immediately apologetic: “But I did do something. I planned a whole afternoon so he wouldn’t be able to rehearse with her.”
Ludmila’s arms are crossed, eyes wide, brows furrowed. Wrong answer. Wrong something. “Ah, I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe that after all the time you’ve spent with me you still haven’t learned anything, Natalia.”
Naty’s head is bowed, because if this didn’t work, then probably, in her head, nothing will. What else can she do to win him back? He always said he fell in love with the real her, the sweet, kind girl who’s shy but has the biggest and most wonderful heart he’s ever known. And she can’t believe this is the way it ends: Francesca Caviglia. Not a bad replacement, Naty supposes. And it was a matter of time before the only guy who ever liked her realised she wasn’t actually worth his time. This should not surprise her at all.
Naty’s head is bowed, but if she were to sneak a look at Ludmila right now, she’d be able to settle her doubts from earlier: the toothy grin, the gleam in her brown eyes, the way her features settle into a relaxed, queen-of-the-world harmony the likes of which are rarer than rare when it comes to the blonde, oh, this girl is a shark personified. “However…you’re in luck, because I’m going to be good to you and give you a tip to solve all your problems.”
Naty looks up, and like the blinding sun, Ludmila’s smile guides her all the way to sitting on the table next to her. “And what is that tip?”
Now, from this moment on, and Naty swears up and down she might be imagining it all, but it’s worth mentioning, Ludmila’s eyes barely leave Naty’s lips. Her voice is soft, so soft, too soft - where did the shark go? Now sitting there is a harmless kitten, leaning in closer, almost purring. “You have to give him a taste of his own medicine, Nat.”
Naty Vidal was baptised in repression a few years ago now. She couldn’t see something like this, like her, coming from a mile away. So she scoots closer, closer, as if there was any more space left between the two of them. “You’re very kind, Ludmi, but can you be a little clearer?”
Ludmila crosses her legs on the table and stares at her lips a little more, face unreadable, maybe waiting for Naty to get it on her own. When she doesn’t, there’s a hint of a frustrated frown creasing her brows. “Natalia,” she breathes, nearly whispering, and- now she’s…licking her own lips? Naty’s eyes are suddenly glued to that red, red lipstick of hers, like it could hold the secrets to the universe as a whole. Ludmila shrugs, “You have to make him jealous too.”
Oh.
Well. That makes sense, but- Maxi’s not a jealous guy. Or at least, he’s never been. But he’s full of surprises lately. She could give this plan a shot. As long as it’s harmless, though maybe she shouldn’t come to Ludmila for harmless plans. But how do you make a guy jealous on purpose? And how could Ludmila help with that? Wait, why does Ludmila want to help? Naty still isn’t getting any of this. “Could you be…even clearer?” There’s no space separating them on the desk anymore, and Naty feels so close to Ludmila that it’s like her surveying eyes are starting to devour her lips. Self-conscious, she bites them in. Ludmila’s done enough staring. If she wants more, she needs to fess up first.
But Ludmila seems to have hit her limit, as she tenses and her voice gets harsh: “Do I have to explain everything, Nat?!”
“One last time,” Naty asks sweetly. Miraculously, Ludmila accepts. “Ok.” She relaxes on the table, uncrossing her legs, looking around herself. Is the knowledge she’s about to impart this sacred that no one else can bear witness? “Close the door,” she murmurs, her tone very still.
Naty deflates. But alas, she really needs that tip. “It’s not that serious,” she says as she walks to the door, checking to make sure no one is on their way in. She closes it slowly to make sure she doesn’t make any sound or attract any more attention.
When she turns around, Ludmila’s right in front of her, leaning in for a kiss.
Naty’s pretty sure that when she breathes again, she swallows her heart whole.
But before that, “Woah, what?!” She pushes Ludmila off, making her stumble backwards and trip into the nearby music stand, sending the sax that was resting on top of it flying through the room. Luckily, it lands close enough to Naty that she can catch it as it lands. Now if that had broken, the story to justify the fall would’ve been something.
“Ow!” Ludmila shrieks, music sheets all over her. She starts piling them up and setting them to one side, as messily as possible. “What was that for?!”
“I’m sorry, I’m-” Naty rushes to her after having safely stored the sax in its place, “Are you hurt?”
“By your stupidity, always,” Ludmila rolls her eyes, accepting the hand Naty’s lending. But as she brings her up Naty inadvertently drags her closer to herself than before, so she’s forced to take yet another step back. “I- I freaked out, I thought you were trying to kiss me or something!”
Ludmila only looks at her, dumbfounded. Naty shrugs, “Yeah, I know-”
“Natalia, I was trying to kiss you.”
A beat. If this was a Western movie, tumbleweeds would’ve rolled in by now. Naty’s eyes are wide by nature, but at this point they’re halfway through crawling out of their sockets. “Excuse me?”
“You asked me to be clearer!” Ludmila justifies herself, “Can’t get much clearer than that!”
“Ludmila, w-” Naty’s quite literally at a loss for words. “What?”
“Why is it that when I’m trying to help you, you have to make things so complicated?!”
“Ludmila,” Naty’s looking consternated to say the least, “I have a boyfriend.”
“Ok, and? Me too. Also, do you really?” Ludmila’s eyebrow rises as she sneers, “I can’t see him anywhere. Off with his second girl, right?”
Naty’s still unresponsive. “Ludmi-”
“This is exactly why we’re doing this, Nat! So your boyfriend stays your boyfriend! And everyone’s happy! You get your prince bland, and- Natalia. Seriously?”
Naty’s turned to stone right there in front of her. So dramatic. “Oh, come on, Nat.” Ludmila grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her gently - as gently as Ludmila Ferro defines the word in her dictionary. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
“T-thought about what?!” Naty coughs out, cheeks flaring up. “This, us,” Ludmila smirks. “This is exactly the kind of thing that would make that rapper hippo mad with jealousy.”
“What…thing?” Naty asks cautiously, though she’s scared of the answer.
“You and I dating,” Ludmila concludes, triumphant. And when Naty collapses to the ground, she’s lucky that the blonde was already holding her in her arms, because to let her hit the head on the floor would’ve been swift retribution for earlier. “Natalia!”
Naty’s brain is so completely in overdrive that this could all be a massive fever dream and she wouldn’t bat an eye. But no, this is real, and Ludmila is actually proposing this. As a thing. That the two of them should do. “You’re crazy.”
“What? You’re the crazy one. Passing on an opportunity to date me.”
“This is- this is-” Naty laughs boisterously, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re joking, right?”
“Oh, come on, Nat, you know this is a great plan. Just a couple of dates, show him what he’s missing. Eye for an eye. Kiss for a kiss.”
She’s so completely serious about this she may as well have been swapped with a shapeshifting alien from outer space this morning, and this is phase one of their evil mission to take over the world. But if Ludmila is seriously looking for an answer, then she can have it. “No.”
“Nat,” there it is again, that little frown. As if she was disappointed at the turnout. As if this benefited her whatsoever - because, let’s be clear, Ludmila won’t do anything she doesn’t stand to gain at least something in. Whatever shady business is happening on the side of this already grim proposition, Naty doesn’t need anything else like that on top of what's already going on in her life. “You’re not being rational right now.”
“I’m not the rational one?! You- and- you’re- I don’t wanna date you!”
“Oh my God, we wouldn’t actually be dating, dumbass! We just need Maxi to believe that! Well- him and the Studio. Which is easy. They’re all idiots.”
“I’m out of here,” Naty says, hand already on the door handle. Ludmila’s voice is now way less studied, and she misses the good old days when her meek assistant would just shut up and do what she was told. “So you’re giving up.”
As she’s giving her back to Ludmila now, Naty’s shoulders rise. “What?”
“You’re giving up on Maxi. You’re letting him do what he wants instead of taking action. You’re not fighting for him.”
Naty turns, slowly. “You know this is the only way,” Ludmila nods.
Now, of course this is far from the only way. If there is a realm this way is the only one at, it’s the worst choice possible one. Only an actual brain cell-lacking individual like Ludmila would think of this as a solid plan.
But Naty doesn’t have that many more braincells for herself in the end. And she has a very hard time saying no. “Explain it to me again. With no- kissing.”
Ludmila sighs, deeply and loudly, “Let me put it in a way even you can understand.” She raises a finger. “This is Maxi. And this,” she raises the same finger from her other hand, “is Fran. They’re spending allllll their time together, and- your finger, please,” she urges Naty to show her her own finger just the way she’s doing it. “There you go, that’s Natalia, all alone and sad and pathetic because her boyfriend isn’t spending time with her. Now, your other finger- that is Ludmi, the most talented and charitable supernova in the world.” The finger Naty gives her on the other hand isn’t the index anymore, as a matter of fact the one right next to it. “Ha-ha, how mature of you, Nat.”
“Go on.”
“So…” Ludmila walks another step closer to Naty, closing their distance and grabbing her friend’s clenched fists. “Ludmi and Natalia are gonna work together to make everything right in the world again. They’re going to act for a few days,” she brings the tip of Naty’s index and middle fingers together as if they were passionately smooching, “and Maxi,” she brings back her own index finger again, “is going to realise just how much of a moron he is, and crawl back to Natalia! And who else could be better to make him lose his mind with jealousy than me?” She points at Naty’s middle finger. “He despises me. Thinks I’m no good for you and all that. If he thinks we’re romantically involved, then he’s gonna come back in an instant. Because one, you’re moving on and living your best life with the hottest girlfriend you could have, and two-” Ludmila stalls. Damn it. “Well, reason one is enough a reason.”
“Ok…and why did you just try to kiss me out of the blue like that?”
“I-” Ludmila lets out a groan, “I was trying to- give you a lesson.”
“A lesson in kissing?”
“Yeah, on the house,” Ludmila wipes her hair away from her face. “Whatever, I’ll warn you next time. We’re gonna set up a code word. Or code phrase. Supernova kiss coming through-”
“If I agree to do this,” Naty interrupts her briskly, “what do you get?”
Ludmila puts a hand on her chest, pouting as if genuinely offended. “Ay, Nat, can’t a redeemed mean girl do something for her best friend from the kindness of her big heart?”
Naty sends her an unimpressed glare and a fake laugh. “Drop the act. What’s in it for you?”
“Hopefully your trust when you see this plan is foolproof. Or Maxiproof, if you will.”
“Ludmi…” Naty huffs, running both hands through her curls. “I have a bad feeling about this. What if it doesn’t work?”
Ludmila purses her lips. “Well, then I was always right and he never deserved you. But it’s going to work. Maximiliano…he-” she makes a spectacle of pretending to swallow back her bile, “he really loves you.”
Naty pauses for a second to reflect. Does he? Maybe he’ll see through the scheme and this’ll be just a big laugh that they’ll share over lunch and a movie. Maybe not all is lost. He can’t see Ludmila and her dating and not have any reaction whatsoever. Ludmila has a point, it would definitely get his attention.
“Come on, what’s the matter? Kissing? It’s nothing we haven’t done before.”
“I know, I know,” Naty goes red in an instant thinking about their- history with kisses. But that’s a long story for another day. Try as she might, she can’t deny Ludmila is a hell of a good kisser. It really depends on so many little aspects, but when they kiss, she-
Wait. She’s not seriously considering this, is she? One thing was their past silly little kisses, and another was- dating. Going public. Ludmila’s arm around her shoulder. Dates. Holding hands. What else do people who date do? That’s pretty much it.
Naty can’t deny it, this is making a deal with the devil. The gamble could cost her Maxi forever. But Ludmila makes it sound easy. Like two people with the history that they have can just date randomly and break up randomly and have this all not faze them whatsoever.
Damn it. Damn it! She knows, she knows with that little asshole smile of hers, she knows what the answer will be, she knew from the moment she offered this proposition. That even if Naty has grown a small backbone and a hint of common sense to go along with it, Ludmila’s word is the golden ring wrapped around her finger that she simply can’t take off, the worst reiteration of the red string of fate you can find on the market.
“And he’ll come back?”
“Even better, he’ll crawl, Natalia.”
Naty’s hot and bothered, and the best thing she can come up with to seal the deal is to grab the neck of Ludmila’s sleeveless shirt and bring her down for a quick kiss, a few short seconds the blonde takes too long to register, so Naty’s doing all the work, but honestly, it doesn’t really matter. Because the moment their mouths brush, Naty places an old memory right where it belonged: lipgloss. Secret weapon. Her lips are as soft as she remembered.
Ludmila’s startled for a moment after Naty breaks the kiss, but she still gives her a knowing smirk. “You’ve been holding that one.”
“Don’t start with that. We have a week at most. And you have to come to this stupid afternoon date with me today.”
“Lunch and a movie? It’s not stupid,” Ludmila fans her own face, “honestly, it’s such a romantic gesture, Nat.”
“But you said-”
“Up-up-up. If you’re dating me, you should know I don’t like to be contradicted. Huge turnoff.”
Naty rolls her eyes. This was a bad idea.
“Plus, is that the best kissing you can do now? Maxi has ruined you, sweet Natalia. We need to start all over again.”
Scratch that, this was the worst idea ever.