Chapter Text
Word on the street now is, Roxy cannot stand Violetta Castillo.
“It’s perfect,” Vilu stares at herself in the mirror, hand reaching under her newfound red hair to scratch her itchy head. “And it justifies why we’re never in the same room together! If she hates me, then she’s avoiding me!”
The expression on Francesca’s face is so pained, she must be feeling the consequence of having shaken her head for the past thirty minutes at all of her best friend’s insanity. “She hates you?”
Vilu turns to Fran, or Fausta, ecstatic. “Yes! Do you hear how good that sounds?”
“She hates you,” Fran repeats dully. Vilu’s nod is hesitant. “Yes.”
“She is you, Violetta!” Fran’s exasperated scream wins her a panicked hand over her mouth, surely smudging her poorly applied camouflage lipstick all over Vilu’s palm. “Francesca! Do you want us to get caught?!”
Fran’s eyes scream the answer Vilu doesn’t want to hear out loud, so all she does is sigh and release her friend. “Please, Fran, you can’t do this to me now.”
“You’re right, you’re right,” Fran attempts a smile that doesn’t even have time to reach her eyes before it drops. “I should’ve done this to you the second you got this insane idea.”
“Maybe, maybe,” Vilu rolls her eyes, going back to the bathroom mirror. “Or maybe you’re actually into this, and you want to blame it all on me.”
Francesca has to bite her lip hard and suppress a scream to actually not get violent. Is it partially her fault for enabling Violetta’s spiralling brain at the wrong time? Perhaps so. But ever since learning just how far her best friend wants to go with this pointlessly mind-numbing scheme, she’s been trying her hardest to dissuade her from it.
This is what Violetta Castillo wants to do to in order to prove a point: wear a cheap clown-red wig and a pair of ugly glasses and seduce her former boyfriend. In her brain, this convoluted plan will only serve her as a way to finally demonstrate how León never cared about her, and how he’s ready to move on to the next girl so shortly after breaking up with his ex.
Of course, Francesca (and everyone else who has been gifted with even just one singular braincell) knows this will obviously one, humiliate her when she inevitably gets busted, and two, actually make her feel awful when she sees that yes, human beings can and will move on after a breakup. Wouldn’t this moment of crisis be a great starting point towards a healthier mindset and an even greater way to acknowledge her own faults? The problem is Vilu doesn’t think she has any faults in this, that León has been making a series of stupid choices that turned him into a completely different person from the one he used to be.
Were she gifted with the magical power of introspection she’d recognise that hey, maybe she’s done some changing as well. Maybe they just don’t get along the way they used to anymore, and that’s ok. But Violetta has never gone through a normal breakup - has never really gone through one, period - so her plan of attack is just to get back at the guy she’s been on and off with for nearly three years now.
That León and Violetta love each other is obvious enough without having to say it out loud, from their psychic shared dreams to their magnetic chemistry to the way they just can’t seem to stay away from each other, but after a while, when both parties are clearly hurting from their own personal issues, a break was overdue. Not only that, everyone around them had noticed that ever since the end of the tour there had been a few issues coming to the surface: Violetta’s sudden bursts of jealousy, León’s need for a different path from the Studio, their inability to have even just one conversation without something coming up to raise their voices at. And no one could blame León for just being so tired of it.
And when they finally broke it off, the last thing Fran would’ve expected was for Vilu to come to her with an alter ego and a Hot Topic outfit to match. Life surprises you that way.
But of course, nothing comes out of nowhere. Violetta has some profound personal issues she does not have the tools to eradicate, like deep-rooted cavities. And this latest idea - not too dissimilar from her father’s previous secret identity fiasco - is just the tip of an iceberg Fran has no idea how to help melt. It’s sad, but it’s true: this self-imposed theatrical torture is a trap she found herself stuck in out of sheer love towards her best friend. But anyone could tell her this isn’t love, this is, indeed, enabling.
“We need someone to spread the rumour, so I’m safe,” Vilu fixes her glasses on the bridge of her nose and turns to Fran once more. “You mean to tell me you want to bring someone else into this?” Francesca replies quickly, her tone hopeless. “No, not like that- just someone who’s good at gossip,” Vilu shrugs.
Francesca needs to think about it just for one moment before a burst of laughter comes out of her: “Everyone here is good at gossip. Sometimes it seems that’s all they’re here for- think of Ludmila, for example.”
Vilu’s face scrunches up all at once, a sort of grudge against her enemy-turned-friend-turned-enemy-turned-reluctant ally-turned-stepsister. “I have enough of Ludmila at home as it is, plus it has to be someone people listen to.” If the blond devil were to run her mouth about how there’s a new girl at school who just so happens to hate Violetta’s guts, everyone would just call it desperate projecting.
“Fair enough.” It’s Francesca’s turn in the mirror as she fixes up her equally ridiculous wig and exaggerated makeup. “How about Naty? Not the same level of pettiness, but she has her experience.”
“I don’t think she would- and even then, everyone would assume Ludmila spoon-fed a lie to her.” And before Fran has the time to get a word in, Vilu gives her a pointed look. “Wouldn’t you?”
Fran only quietly sighs at her friend’s good point. “Hey, Andrés has that blog now, doesn’t he? You could try him.” Violetta crosses her arms. “I guess…after all, what I really need is-”
Her sentence suddenly gets cut off by the opening of the bathroom door. One split second is all it takes for her and Fran to exchange a silent deadly glare, one that screams I thought you were the one making sure no one got in from both sides.
In storms a mumbling redhead who takes on the tap closest to where Francesca is, grabbing the hot handle so aggressively she may even rip it out. Immediately vapour starts obfuscating the mirror as she keeps chanting something under her breath, washing her hands with the boiling water - and not even blinking at its heat.
Vilu and Fran exchange a concerned look. Has Camila always washed her hands with scorching hot water? Or is this a new - worrisome - development?
“Alright Cami, deep breath in, deep breath out,” Camila says as she completely disregards her own words, “he just wants to rile you up. He just wants to make you mad, and you can’t give him what he wants. You’re ok. You’re ok!”
“You don’t sound ok,” Fran can’t stop herself from blurting out - immediately wincing at the sound of her own voice once she realises she’s said that out loud.
Camila’s head rolls her way faster than the speed of light, which makes Fran take one instinctive step back out of fear, bumping into the already clumsy enough Vilu, who miraculously doesn’t trip and fall to the floor. She squints her eyes at the two of them, brows furrowed, and this is when Vilu and Fran know, this is never going to work. Camila’s their best friend, how do they expect her not to call them out on their bullshit immediately? And of course, everyone will recognise them as soon as they-
“I’m sorry, do I know you? Are you new here?” Camila coughs out. “It’s just that you look so familiar, but I can’t place it. Have I seen you online?”
Fran exhales. They can’t risk this with Camila. It’s already a dumb enough game as it is, and cutting Cami out of it is just a bad friend move, first of all, and a careless one, too. How are they meant to keep the ruse up with a person they talk to every day, the whole day? Plus, even if Camila might not be the most reasonable person she knows, she could still help talk some sense into her off-the-rocker bestie. “Hey, Cam-”
“Howdy, there!” Vilu beats her to it, putting up her exaggerated Roxy accent. “Camila, right? The pretty youngin from those On Beat videos,” she waltzes up to the redhead with an uncanny grin taking up most of her face, hand extended forward. “Gimme a good ol’ shake of the hand, will ya?”
Camila blinks once, slowly. Vilu stays frozen in place, trying to keep her unnatural confidence intact. Slowly but surely, Cami’s hand rises to meet hers, and Vilu gives her a firm squeeze. “There ya go! I’m Roxy, and that over there is my best friend Fausta. As ya pointed out, this is our first day here.”
Once the handshake breaks, Camila gives her a slight nod of acknowledgement. “Alright then, nice meeting you both. And sorry you had to witness- that,” she points to the tap she was previously using, and with a quick smile, she turns on her heels and exits the bathroom.
Just a few seconds pass before Fran turns to Vilu mechanically, death in her unforgiving eyes. “What the hell was that?!”
But the enormous grin has not left Vilu’s face, which worries Fran even more. “Uh…Vilu?”
“She’s perfect,” is all Violetta says giddily. “What-” When Fran’s brain catches up, her eyes widen more than ever before, and she prays to every single star in the sky that she only misunderstood that glimmer in her friend’s psychopathic look. “No. Violetta, no, no-”
“Yes, Fran, listen! We trust her, and she’s our best friend! If we say Roxy and Fausta don’t like us, then she doesn’t like Roxy and Fausta, and she tells everyone they’re bad people- that way everyone steers clear of us and we can go on with our plan without anyone being suspicious of what we are up to! We exclude each other!”
“Vilu, you’re losing the plot,” Fran nearly laughs as she reprimands her, because this is becoming almost hilariously contrived. “You just wanted to know if León was dating that girl-”
“I mean, at the end of the day it still is about that,” Vilu shrugs, “I don’t see what that has to do with what I’m saying now.”
“It has everything to do with it!”
“But isn’t that great? Completely isolating our parallel lives so Roxy and Fausta and Violetta and Francesca can live without ever having to come across each other? Let’s just let this happen, let’s let Cami help us here!”
Francesca frowns. “I don’t want to lie to her.” Vilu bites her lip, a wave of regret washing over her at the words. Her frantic tone finally gets a breather. “Look, I don’t want to lie to her either, but once we establish that Roxy never wants to meet me, then we’re not obligated to play double all the time anymore! And it won’t be a big lie, just- just this once, and then we’re done.”
“And how long are we going to be Roxy and Fausta for?” Fran shakes her head. “Not much longer, I promise,” Vilu goes to grab her hands. “I only need to catch León in the act.”
“There are other ways to-”
“Fran, please,” Vilu bats her eyelashes in that overly cartoony way that always gets her whatever she wants. And of course, it works. “That face!” Fran whisper-screams, as she frees her hands from her friend’s ridiculously tight grip. “Just this once. You’ve promised, Vilu.”
“Of course. Then we never have to interact with Cami again.”
“We? Oh, no no no,” Francesca suddenly takes off her wig, leaving Vilu staring at her with a blank expression. “You wanted to get Camila involved, you talk to her. I’ll see you in class later,” she laughs, opening the tap to wash her flashy makeup away - and immediately wincing once her skin comes in contact with the boiling water. “Jeez, what is up with her,” she laments as Vilu takes one deep breath and catapults herself out of the bathroom.
“You know that if you break one of those, you have to pay for it, right?” Naty squeezes in her words timidly right before Camila slams her locker door hard for the hundredth time in two minutes. “Cami, did you hear what I-”
“It’s either this, or his fucking head, Naty,” Camila says sweetly with a disturbingly fake smile, making Naty raise her hands in defeat and apology at the same time. “Ugh! I can’t- I just can’t,” the redhead finally leaves the poor locker - which creaks open with a painful groan that almost sounds like desperate relief - alone. “What has gotten into him?!”
“That’s how Broduey is,” Naty shrugs apologetically, “it’s how he’s always been.”
“Yeah, but we’re not talking about his usual outbursts now, it’s him trying to sabotage my one good thing going on this year!” Camila cries out. “Why can’t he see how big this Rock Bones thing can be for us?! These are the kinds of occasions that go through everyone else before me. Vilu gets it, then Fran gets it, then for some fucking reason Ludmila gets it- and I’m lucky if they even remember my name.”
Naty sighs - she sees her point, but she’s never as mad as her about blending in the background. If anything, it’s the kind of thing she’s usually grateful for. Still, she can’t help but see the reasoning behind Camila’s frustration: the opportunities she gets are scarce when compared to her classmates. “Hey,” Naty holds her by the shoulders, “just because he’s mad about it, doesn’t mean you have to give up on it.”
“No, I know that,” Cami looks to one side to avoid her friend’s eyes. “But all we do is fight about it and I’m just so tired, Naty.”
“Well then, screw him! That’s the exact same reason why I broke up with Maxi!” Naty lets out a huff. “He wanted to boss me around and I can’t have someone like that in my life.”
Camila uses all her restraint to not raise an eyebrow at the comment, given Naty’s track record with that tarantula of hers. “You’re right. But I don’t want to break up with Broduey. It’s just how we work.”
“And how you work is…by arguing all the time?” Naty cocks her head. This suddenly gets Camila in a defensive mode. “Hey, no, we don’t argue all the time. But when we do, it’s just because of our personalities! We’re both strong types, you know?”
“Ah, got it. So what you’re saying is you’re not compatible.” When Camila grimaces, all Naty does is give her a very pointed look. “I’m sorry, but that’s what it sounds like!”
“Whatever, we are deeply misunderstood,” Camila rolls her eyes. That’s something she can always find solace in: Naty’s far from the first person to tell her she and Broduey aren’t a perfect match, as if Camila didn’t already know that. But there’s something about the way she and Broduey work when together that nobody will ever be able to understand except for them. They might be a controversial couple, but they both like it that way, confusing and infuriating and all-passionate and overwhelming. That is how love is supposed to be lived, isn’t it?
“And if we’re throwing judgment around then let me just say I think you made a mistake with Maxi,” Camila walks out of the locker room, Naty following her close behind. “He apologised. We’re not on the same boat, he’s just protective.”
“Yeah…” Naty scratches the back of her head. “Honestly it wasn’t just that that made me break it off. We’ve just grown apart, that’s all. But we’re still friends!”
“Please, Naty. Nobody can stay friends with their exes.”
“Please you, Cami. It’s the Studio we’re talking about, everyone is someone’s ex in here. Just because you don’t want to stay friends with Broduey when you inevitably break up doesn’t mean we all-”
“Will you stop it with that!” Camila’s tone is so high now the students in the hall turn to look at her, immediately going back to their business once Camila sends them a cutthroat glare. “I’m not breaking up with Broduey! I’m just mad at him, but I’m always mad at him, that doesn’t mean anything!”
Naty’s lips form a straight thin line as she waits for her friend to take in what she’s just let out. But when she does, her already etched frown only deepens. “It’s not important. What’s important now is that we go to class, and then we have rehearsals with the Rock Bones- which we’re going to whether Broduey likes it or not.”
“That’s the spirit, I guess,” Naty exhales, knowing this is not the time nor place for an intervention - but someone needs to sit down with Camila and have a long talk with her about…all that. Still, one last nudge in the right direction might help open up her eyes a little bit more. “But take León and Vilu for example. They were fighting pretty often and called it quits, and now they both seem happier, León with his band stuff and Vilu with…” she trails off, looking around herself as the hall empties out, everyone off to their rehearsals. “Wait, where is Vilu?”
Camila realises she hasn’t seen her all morning either, which is weird considering she’s the type of student to never miss a day - mostly because she’s constantly so busy being the top student that she can’t afford to skip a class, with how much she’s needed. “Probably somewhere being smarter than me, judging by where you were going with your great example,” she rebukes.
“Camila!”
Cami turns around. “Oh wait, did you hear that? There she is,” but despite hearing her voice Violetta is nowhere to be found. “I don’t see her,” Naty shakes her head in confusion. “I swear I’ve heard-”
“Camila!” the voice repeats, and it sounds just like Vilu - except the nearly comically strong accent reminds Cami of her strange encounter in the bathroom with a redder-than-redhead just a few minutes ago. And like clockwork, another turn has her face to face with the enigmatic presence who’s introduced herself as Roxy. “Hello?” Camila greets her again, clearly puzzled as to what this second meeting in a matter of seconds is for.
“I was lookin’ for ya, Camila- oh, may I call you Mila?” Roxy grins, tipping an imaginary hat at the top of her head. “Uh…” Camila shifts her weight uncomfortably between her feet, something Roxy takes notice of immediately. “Ah, sorry, it’s just that…my first…cow, back at the ranch, was called Mila. I still love her to this day.”
If that was supposed to make her feel better, Camila has no idea. “Ok,” she clasps her hands together, “well, my friend and I are very busy-”
“Oh!” Only now does Roxy acknowledge the presence of the curly-haired girl, slightly hiding behind Camila with her eyes as wide as saucers. “How d’you do? You’re Naty, I take it.”
Naty stays still without saying a word, as if the mere presence of her had turned her to stone from fear alone. “I’m Roxy, I’m new around here,” Roxy laughs, “but I don’t bite.” Naty backs away just one half step: from the way this girl is smiling as if her teeth needed to crawl out of her mouth, that sounds like a bad lie.
“Alright alright, you’re a shy one, I get it,” Roxy shrugs, backing away herself. “Anyway, what are you two up to? I really need some new friends around here. Fausta is nice ’n’ all, but sometimes she can be a real…snake in the- hill…when it’s sunny- you get me.”
“Yeah,” Cami says hesitantly, her head slightly shaking no. After that, she looks for a way out anywhere around her, even Naty pulling her by the sleeve a bit, but Roxy’s grin is expectant of an answer - a positive one at that. “We can be your friends!” she pushes out after having been quiet for way too long. “We?” Naty blinks, just to be immediately elbowed: “Y-yeah, we’ll be your friends, Roxy.”
“Why thank you kindly!” Roxy opens her arms to try and engulf them both in a bone-crushing hug - Naty manages to slip away quick enough for Cami to get the brunt of it. While she definitely cringes into the embrace at first, something about it feels so oddly…familiar, she can’t help but slowly return it. It’s confusingly comforting, like a hug from someone she didn’t know she missed. “You’re welcome,” she replies, breathless in her bewilderment - but she’s not nearly as bewildered as Naty is, looking at the scene from a careful distance.
“And I can’t wait to meet the rest of the gang too! I used to watch all of y’all’s videos back in the YouMix days- Maxi, and Andrés, and…” Roxy scratches her head in a weirdly subdued way, as if she does too aggressively her hair could fly off. “Uh…am I missin’ someone?”
Camila chuckles, her eyes on the floor. “Well, you can’t really talk about YouMix without mentioning Violetta, can you,” she says quietly. But noticing Roxy’s gone even quieter now, her eyes dart back up.
Roxy is frozen in place, looking at Camila with a glare so intense it makes her wonder if she’s accidentally cursed or something. “What?” Camila asks puzzled. Roxy’s answer is a long steadying breath that sounds like she’s about to erupt like a volcano with thick glasses and hair that already fits the lava part. Camila is, obviously, concerned. “What is-”
“Oh, just the mention of her name makes me…” Roxy shakes her head as if possessed, “I can’t stand it! I can’t stand her!”
“Hey now,” Camila nearly growls, brows knitted - Violetta realises now how hard she rides for her friends, especially her best friends, and regrets this plan ever-so-slightly - “what’s Vilu ever done to you?”
“Hah! What hasn’t she done?!” Vilu realises she has to play into this role even harder now to make it believable, and so Roxy lets out a mean laugh as she goes over the worst attributes she can charge…herself with. “She’s so stuck-up, for starters. She got into this school just because her dad is rich!”
“Well,” Naty interjects from behind, “we all got in because we’re rich…”
“And- and she thinks she’s better than everyone else, she always wants to be at the front gettin’ all the solos!”
“You’re thinking of someone else now,” Naty quips again with a bemused giggle, but Cami’s not having as much fun. “Now listen up here, Roxy, I have no idea who you are but I won’t you throw baseless insults at my friends!”
“They’re not baseless!” Roxy crosses her arms. “I know what I’m talking about! Uh- she has a weird…smile, and um- I went to a meet and greet once and she- spat on me and called me ugly!”
“What?!” Camila’s eyes go wide as she bursts out laughing. “And fat,” Roxy nods, her eyes just as wide, “and she told me I was untalented and worthless. You know, that’s actually why I started singing in the first place, to show her I am way more talented than she’ll ever be. And well, now I just had a whole audition with that teacher of yours, Greg, so- how’s that for untalented!”
“Ok, now, that’s-” Naty tries once again to take hold of the conversation, but this time Camila actively stops her by raising a hand, something Naty shakes her head at in confusion. “You know what, Roxy…I think you have a point. I will investigate further into this issue and get back to you. Nobody deserves to go through what you went through. No, everyone deserves to know how awful Vilu really is!”
Naty and Roxy both let out a baffled sound and a “Really?!” at the exact same time. “Good! Spread the word then, dumplin’!” the latter of the two exults. “That’s exactly what you should do. Keep up the good work, both of ya! And uh- I won’t make you late for class, so…”
“Oh, you already have,” Camila smiles broadly. “But we’ll see you around, right Roxy?”
“That you will! If that audition today goes well, which, who knows?” Roxy shrugs as she starts walking off. “I mean, I’m so good, but sometimes I worry I’m too good, you know?”
“We all get that,” Camila gives her a reassuring thumb up. “Don’t worry, you’ll do great.”
“Thanks, Mila!” Roxy responds with an aggressive salute, and finally turns around, her face cringing so hard she could’ve swallowed a lemon whole. Well, that went horribly. Good, but horribly. And how she dreads to have to debrief all of this to Fran-
Oh, shit, Fran.
“Uh-” she turns back to the two friends once she’s at the very end of the hall. “And also!” she yells, “I hate that other girl Francesca as well! I…hate Italians!”
“What?” Cami yells back from the other end of the corridor. “I said I hate Italians!” Roxy repeats even louder, so loud she almost hears from the classroom next to her an aw she can most definitely attribute to Federico. And with that, she vanishes.
Naty lets a few moments of much needed silence pass before she says, not even clearly knowing where to start: “What exactly were you thinking when-”
“She’s perfect.”
Here we go again. Naty’s head falls in her hands. “She’s what?”
Camila turns to her friend with the most ecstatic expression she’s ever seen her sport, “She’s perfect, Naty! This is exactly what I need!”
“I’m sorry, in what world is this exactly what you need?!” Naty cries out. If this is what Camila Torres thinks she needs, then what she actually needs is the best shrink in the business. “She just said Vilu called her ugly in a meet-and-greet, she’s insane! Plus they look so alike I don’t even get it-”
“Exactly! She’s a total stranger, and she is so far removed from anyone here in the Studio she’s the perfect person to vent to! I can just unload all my problems on her without being judged- I can’t believe how lucky I got.”
Naty’s expression goes from concern to sympathy. She would never judge Camila - she only tells her the truth exactly how it is, because it’s what she needs to hear. And wouldn’t she need a good friend, instead of…whatever that scary Roxy girl is? “Cami…you know I’m here for you, always, if you need someone.”
“But that’s the problem! You know me, you’re biased!” Naty furrows her brows as if what Camila’s just said was a personal offence. “Hey, I can be unbiased.”
“Naty, you’re my friend and I love you, but that’s factually untrue.”
“And what makes you say-”
“Who’s your best friend again?” Camila bursts her bubble so quickly Naty only responds with a sigh. “Fine. But this girl just appeared out of nowhere and is so mean for no reason, why her?”
Camila only rubs her chin as if this was not the worst idea she’s ever had in her entire life. She can’t help but think back to that short hug, how she effectively melted into Roxy’s touch. That has to count for something. This meeting has to be a sign, and after all, Camila trusts signs more than she trusts her own judgment. “I don’t know, Naty, I have a good feeling about this,” she muses. “And I already know I’ll never get attached to her since we’re so different, so this is truly the perfect opportunity.”
“I feel like you’re using the word perfect a lot.”
“You don’t get it,” Camila feels relaxed for the first time in what feels like forever. “There’s something about her.”
Naty flinches at the words alone. Something-about-hers never bring any good.
“Do you know what Fausta means in Italian?” Francesca says distractedly as she pretends to take notes. “Lucky. And I’m not feeling lucky at all right now. In fact, I’m feeling very un-Fausta.”
“Relax, it worked,” Vilu whispers as she sits down at the edge of the stage next to her, trying not to make a scene. “Violetta! Nice of you to join us,” Gregorio remarks with an eye-roll - but even he is too burned out to actually reprimand her tardiness. As he drones on about the Studio’s post-Antonio plans to scramble for funds any and everywhere, Francesca turns to her friend mechanically. “It worked?”
Vilu beams. “It worked! Camila will spread the rumour just as intended. I made a great first impression.”
“Why do you sound pleased with yourself?” Francesca groans. “You’re not talking to her ever again, I hope you know that.”
“I know that!” Vilu hits her arm with the pen she’s just gotten out of her bag. “I just mean she won’t forget about it any time soon!”
“Because that’s exactly what we wanted, wasn’t it?” Francesca grits her teeth in a fake smile that makes Vilu lean back ever so slightly. “Gain notoriety?!” she whisper-shouts.
“No- no no no, Fran, it’s nothing like that, I swear. All I did was tell her how Roxy hates me and that was it.”
“Alright then, what did you say?”
Vilu opens her mouth but no sound comes out. “Violetta, what did you say?”
“Just…that I’m…you know, stuck-up…and selfish.”
Fran snorts. “Interesting. Well, at least you kept it simple. I know you tend to go overboard with your lies when you’re nervous, so thank you for not doing anything crazy.”
“Right,” Violetta coughs out. But she can’t stay silent for too long. “Uh, crazy how?”
“I don’t know, made up some fake story about you meeting Roxy and beating her up or something.”
“Hah!” Vilu hits her with the pen again - this time Fran swats her away. “Beating her up, that is- that is one crazy story, isn’t it,” she shakes her head. “No, no, I wouldn’t say that. I didn’t say that, in fact.”
Francesca lets out an exhale so long she throws her head back in the meantime. “So what did you say?”
“I told you! That I’m selfish and- yeah,” Vilu tucks her hair behind both ears nervously. “And that I’m…that I told her she’s untalented.”
Fran’s head is back up so quickly she has to blink the migraine away for a moment. “What.”
Vilu knew she shouldn’t have mentioned this, but ever since her talk with Camila she just can’t stop replaying the interaction in her head over and over again, obsessing over every little detail to make sure no one is onto her yet. So naturally, the fake meet-up between herself and Roxy is playing over and over in her head as well, as a nice ghost track after the already tragic enough album closer, minutes and minutes of white noise to get there.
“Vilu, you have to tell me everything. As much as I hate this we’re in it together and I have to know exactly what you told her.”
“I just- aw, we’re in it together?” Despite herself, Fran’s words get to her. She actually is so lucky she gets to have a friend who will follow her into the utter dark that is her thought process. “Don’t act so nice, I still want this to end as soon as possible!” Fran is the one to hit her with her pen this time, but Vilu doesn’t even mind as the words have made her feel better about herself for even just one split second. “Vilu, what did you say?!”
“That I…mmm…” Vilu covers her mouth as she recounts the words. “That you mmm?”
“That I sphmm,” Vilu’s hand won’t leave her lips, her words even more muffled. Francesca sighs out of desperation. “Do I have to ask Cami?”
Maybe with a self-assured, chill delivery she won’t get as mad. Vilu smirks confidently and flips her hair over her shoulder. “Fran, seriously, relax. I just said that I…spat on her, and called her ugly.”
It does work for a second.
Unfortunately Francesca has a brain. “Say that again.”
Vilu’s eyes go wide. “N-no.”
“You sp-” Fran stares at her dully as if her every emotion has been sucked out of her with a vacuum. “And called her ugly?”
Vilu looks down. “And fat.”
Fran does nothing but keep staring at her for a good five seconds, then puts her hands together and takes a sharp breath. “Yep, I’m done with this.”
“Oh, come on Fran, you can’t- you just said we’re in this together!” Vilu scrambles for a way to stick any sort of landing, which is obviously impossible in this situation. “Please,” she begs, “as you said, we never have to talk to Camila again as you said and now our only focus is León! We can do this, can’t we? We’re a team! Everything is under control!”
“Under control?!” Fran explodes, her tone way louder than it has any right to be in the middle of class. “You fat-shamed yourself!”
Of course, Gregorio and the rest of the students gawk at her in stunned silence for what feels like forever, unsure of how to even comment on whatever just happened - until Gregorio gets a phone call that forces him to step away from the group. With an admonitory look, he takes the call and leaves the room. This is the perfect cue for Francesca to stand up and leave as well, so fast Vilu barely has time to register it.
Standing up as well, she turns to the other students, who all seem to have given up on understanding any of this exchange. “Don’t worry guys, she was…well, we’re trying to come up with- lyrics, for our…rap battle?” Even she ughs at her own delivery - she needs to learn how to come up with stuff on the fly without sounding like an alien putting words together at random.
“Fran-”
“No.”
“Fran,” Vilu pleads as she grabs her to hold her steady before she has a chance to escape her clutch again. Now just outside the Studio, the breeze blows freely in both their faces, and having to continuously spit her hair from her mouth is not making Francesca any less annoyed. “Hear me out.”
“This was ridiculous from the beginning. Now you’ve taken it too far and it’s time someone says no, Violetta.” Francesca’s voice is uncharacteristically sombre. Vilu’s guilt creeps up on her for a split second - but she can’t give it all up now. “Fran, I’m not having fun with this!”
Francesca lets out a sour burst of laughter. “Oh, when you were getting all starry-eyed earlier talking about how you charmed Cami that wasn’t having fun?!”
“Ok- no, you got that wrong. That was out of necessity, as I explained-”
“Look.” Her tone is serious again, which the other girl’s already fragile ego doesn’t appreciate. “I can’t stop you from doing- whatever you want with this alter ego of yours, but I can’t get involved anymore. It’s bad enough as it is. And I can’t play double at the Studio too!”
“I think you’re getting way too ahead of yourself, Fran! We’re not hurting anyone- and I fixed our Studio problem, now all we need to do is go to León’s-”
Fran laughs again. Vilu frowns at the immediate reaction. “What.”
“You realise this is not going to work, right?” After seeing her friend’s confusion, Francesca takes a deep breath and simply states the truth: “Nobody could ever fall for Roxy.”
And that’s it: she’s hit her where it hurts. Subconsciously, maybe, but Vilu narrows her eyes at her, taking it so personally she’s basically tattooing it on her forehead to never forget. The real trouble begins now, as Violetta Castillo misreads a wake up call for a personal offence. “You don’t know that.”
“I don’t know that? You’ve been free-falling in that wig all day!” Now it’s Fran to hold Vilu by the shoulders. “Things with León are already not that great, how do you think he’s gonna react when he realises it’s you behind all this?”
“He won’t realise, he didn’t recognise us when we were at the garage,” Vilu rolls her eyes. “You’re just trying to poke holes in this.”
You can’t poke holes in a colander, Fran holds her tongue from spitting out. “And what if it works? You think it won’t make you more miserable?” It’s such a rhetorical question - Fran is very much aware the girl in front of her has not planned it out that far. Still, Vilu looks at her as if it was absurd to ask. “If it works I get the answer I wanted,” she says slowly, the way she’d be explaining her flawless scheme to a three-year-old.
But you don’t want this, Fran bites her tongue again. Why are you punishing yourself? But Violetta just won’t listen, entangling herself in a horror scenario of a predicament of her own volition. Whatever is going on inside her brain, Vilu cannot face alone. Sigh.
“Fine. Alright. But I’m not dressing up at the Studio anymore.”
As if being injected with some sort of magical dopamine all of a sudden, Violetta’s face lights up with an otherworldly bright smile. “Thank you!” she chokes the life out of Fran with her hug, “Thank you thank you thank you, ugh, I owe you big time.”
“That you do,” Fran chuckles stridently. Vilu notices the cough in her voice and releases her quickly, but still smiling. “And you know what? You gave me a great idea.”
“Oh,” Fran’s hand goes to the back of her neck, “another one? Already?”
“You say I can’t make anyone fall for Roxy? Well,” Vilu strikes a strange pose, her hands on her hips and her face overly confident, like a bad impression of a supermodel doing duck lips while having immensely painful cramps. “We’ll see about that, pardner.”
Francesca’s entire posture deflates as she exhales deeply. “Not what I meant.”
“Ah-ah!” Vilu turns to the Studio, a new purpose sparking in her eyes. “Challenge accepted!”
That Violetta can’t flirt, everyone knows. What makes people fall for her is her kindness, her sweet personality, her voice, her beauty - a girl must accept that about herself at this point - a series of things that, call her lucky, just come naturally to her. Her jokes never land, she doesn’t do pick-up lines, and anything beyond that realm is way out of her comfort zone.
In the end, Violetta is a nice girl, and that’s why boys like to be around her. All she asks back is understanding, patience, great hugs, and yeah, she misses León. She misses León a lot, why else would she be doing this insanely stupid one-woman carnival parade? Her handsome, charming, smart, talented, beautiful boyfriend.
Ex.
Ex-boyfriend.
Vilu’s hand goes to her hair and finds the plasticky, stiff texture of her red wig, and suddenly she regrets ever stepping out into the hall as Roxy again. What was she thinking, getting someone to like her this way? It’s already a miracle people like her at all. A miracle she got as far as she has without someone calling her out as the impostor that she is.
She doesn’t deserve to be here. All these students worked hard to be where they are, and she just showed up one day and got everything handed to her and now it’s the final year and everyone’s leaving and León left the Studio, and she can’t let him go - she can’t let anyone go. She loves this family she found in the most unexpected of places, but were things too good to be true? Is she waking up now from a dream that seemed too unrealistic to be actually happening?
Because after all, she’s still that kid locked away in her room wishing for a friend. Looking out the window and wishing for something more in her sheltered life. And now that she got it, now that she got here, so far from her four walls, it’s all over. Already.
No. No, she’s not ready to move on. She just got here. She just started to have fun, some fun, it won’t end like this, this fast. The Studio is falling in on itself - she can fix it. She can find a way. To keep everyone close, to make León come back, to make herself good enough so that-
Vilu barely has time to register the swarm of students pouring in the hall signalling the end of classes before she slams hard against someone who walks right into her. Instinctively, her hand reaches for her wig - but it takes another long moment before she realises, her glasses are gone.
Her glasses. The only thing concealing her face. Her very Violetta Castillo face.
“Watch where you’re going!” she screeches, half accentuating her words, half panicking as she looks to the floor and all she can see is students’ feet stomping and running and marching out, her glasses nowhere to be found. “No- no, help-” she breathes, but her lungs can’t seem to agree with her, as she only takes in dry air that makes her heave. Hands covering her ears and eyes squeezed shut, she stays frozen in place, her legs shaking so hard it’s a miracle she hasn’t fallen to the floor as well.
What is this?
“Make it stop,” she cries out, teeth so gritted they could shatter any second now. She remains still as a statue, overwhelmed by a wave of everything at once, for what seems to be a century, before a hand gently reaches for her shoulder. “Roxy?”
“No, I’m done with that,” she whispers so quietly she can barely hear herself. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, it’s ok,” the familiar voice swims through the fog in her brain. “I just thought you’d need these.”
Vilu’s eyes tentatively start to open, as she sees a hand offering her Roxy’s glasses back. And then she notices the boho bracelets running up her arm, and immediately knows she has to put those glasses back on, stat. “W-why thank you kindly, Mila!” She snatches them out of her grip and turns around to put them on, immediately sighing out of relief as soon as she can fully open her eyes again. The eerie feeling is still creeping around the edges of her vision, but it’s slowly starting to dissipate.
“These halls can be brutal sometimes,” Camila says apologetically. “I should’ve warned you earlier. Are you…ok?”
What must Camila think of this Roxy, spitting insults at one of her best friends in one breath and freaking out in the middle of the Studio in the next? Insanity, insanity is what she thinks by now. But that doesn’t surprise Vilu. She sees the insanity in herself as well. “I’m as happy as a horse galloping freely in the sun, sweetheart!” she spins on her heels to face Camila again, who gives her a quizzical look at first, but eventually shrugs it off with what seems to be relief. Her voice is way rougher than earlier, as she has to force an acceptable timbre out with how her throat seems to be suddenly filled to the brim with itchy soot. “But, uh, how about you?”
“I’m ok,” Camila laughs. “Hey, I was actually hoping to run into you. Can I borrow you for a minute?”
What Vilu wants is to go home and go to bed and not plan on what time to get out of it. “Sure thing!”
“See, earlier, I feel like we had a connection,” Camila starts. “And that’s not something that happens often, you know? So I just think we should- explore this connection further. What do you say?” Her deep, brown stare is now fixed on Roxy, waiting eagerly for her answer. And Vilu knows as awkward as this will be, it’s time to pull off the wig and tell the truth, before anyone gets hurt, before Camila starts believing Roxy is actually a real person.
So she opens her mouth.
“Hah, buy me dinner first, won’t ya?”
As soon as the words come out her eyes grow exponentially in size.
What.
The fuck.
She goes to fix whatever the hell that was, but remembers what she’s blurted out has come from somewhere she couldn’t control in herself, so she immediately shuts her lips again.
In the meantime, Camila’s eyebrows have shot upward. “Oh, sure! Dinner!” she smiles again, that gorgeous broad smile of hers that could convince even the biggest pessimist on Earth that life is all sunshine and rainbows. “Why not. You’re new here, I’ll take you somewhere nice.”
“Wow…that’s great,” Vilu smiles back, cringing at her flimsy delivery. “I love, uh…food.”
“Who doesn’t? Listen,” Camila points one finger at her, making her indirectly stumble backwards slightly. “I like your confidence. You’re not afraid to speak your mind. I like an honest woman.”
“Yup! Haha, they call me honest Roxy where I’m from,” Vilu nods along. Can today get any worse? She needs to burn this wig soon. She’ll come up with another plan - Fran was right. She can’t be doing this, can she? Tangling herself up with Camila of all people. It’s like she’s asking for things to go horribly wrong at this point.
“So I have this situation, and I feel like you came into my life at just the right time to be the stranger to help me. There’s this guy…”
“Oh, Broadway,” she drags out every single letter of the name in her atrociously unidentifiable fake accent. “That handsome fella of yours. I’d like to take a ride with him.”
Camila only looks at her for a long moment in a silence that could be cut with a toothpick. “Uh- on my um, truck, in the lovely…countryside. Sweet home. Ranch. Tumbleweeds. You were saying?”
The other girl takes a moment to blink the awkwardness away, which is literally impossible. “Alright, well, I’m just going through a rough patch with him and maybe your unbiased opinion could help. I love my friends so much, but sometimes they don’t get me.”
Already halfway on a deep breath to let out her next bout of insanity, Violetta’s shoulders slump and she can’t help the frown that forms on her face. Is this how Camila feels? Why hasn’t she told anyone? That’s what friends are for, to help when she’s down. Was this façade wearing her out? And how self-absorbed must Vilu be to never have noticed one of her best friends was struggling this much around her?
Her hand slowly reaches for Camila’s arm, caressing her gently, hoping to give her any sort of comfort. “I’d love to help you,” she says. And hearing her own words presents her with a new road in front of her impasse - maybe this Roxy thing can actually do good, if handled the right way. She can actually help someone, a friend in need, through her ridiculous disguise. Maybe Roxy can be a superhero in that way, a mask, a costume, chivalrous and strong and fearless, always to the rescue.
So that’s what she decides to do for now: use her Roxy powers for good. “A pretty chick like you should not be sufferin’ from any sorts of heart troubles, y’know. If there’s anything I can help ya with, just holler at me. I’m in your corner, dumplin’.”
Camila’s lips curve in a fond smile, and her eyes find Roxy’s - perfect, she’s hooked. All she needs to do now is serve her purpose, and then maybe she will think of tearing her a new one for how she’s treated Vilu. “Thank you, Roxy.”
“For a face like yours, I’d do anything.”
Ok, this needs to stop, she needs to shut her mouth. But leaving now seems impossible with Cami’s stare pinning her in place and her hand which has yet to leave her arm. So all she does is just hold that stare, in complete silence, waiting for Camila to do anything to free her from this exchange.
Camila’s features relax in confident playfulness, and for a split second Vilu fears recognition in that look - oh, this is so over, she must’ve known from the start, she was only playing a part to see how far she’d go. Well, this is the humiliation she needed to wake up from this delirium.
But no, it stops there, and Cami just smiles. That’s a relief. Who knows if next time she’ll be this lucky? She’s been here long enough, it’s time to go change out of these clothes and take a long shower and hope these dinner plans can take a rain check - or multiple. Before she uses Roxy as a means for a positive end here, she must reconcile who Roxy actually is, not just spew random insults and then flirt with Camila just for the hell of it.
Wait.
Is that what it was? Flirting?
Camila doesn’t seem turned off - is it working, actually? Could she…
No, no, this is too far. This is unforgivable. Using Camila just to- she couldn’t, right?
But why is there a little voice in that seriously concerning brain of hers that keeps saying why not? This doesn’t have to turn into anything, it’s just playing into a character. And being so far removed from Vilu, she shouldn’t feel guilty - plus, nothing stops Camila from saying she’s not into it, or maybe even better, a distraction might help her figure everything out with Broduey, too.
And what if this actually ends up helping Cami and herself with León at the same time? Perfecting a character means spending time with it, not any different from writing a good song. And a good song comes from the heart, thus, Roxy must come from the heart, thus, Roxy must become a functioning human with a personality, and who can help her better than Camila Torres? She has a soft spot for the misunderstood - she was her first friend at the Studio after all.
This is genius. Violetta has just found herself the perfect role to play. If it works, León will fall at her feet. If it doesn’t, surely she and Camila will laugh about this some time in the future.
Nothing can go wrong. This is what you call a perfect plan.
“Well, I’m off,” Roxy grins with newfound peace in her heart. “But we’ll see each other soon, and we’ll have that dinner, you promised, Mila! You know what they say, a redhead never backs down on her promises!” She walks to the door, swagger in her every footstep as she adds: “And us redheads, we gotta stick together!”
Camila watches Roxy stumble out of On Beat with her ridiculous boots, and she’s left trying to figure out who this cowgirl from outer space is, if she really just asked said cowgirl from outer space out for dinner, and most importantly, why she can’t stop the blush that creeps up her neck.
She didn’t lie. There is something about her. Something so bizarre it’s almost endearing. Whatever that something is, she has to figure it out soon - but if she has even an inkling of a clue about where this will lead, then it’s about to get really bad for her.
How did that love book of hers go again? Green dot for potential candidate, red dot for not a chance?
What does a redhead dot entail? Probably double the trouble.
Maybe it’s just time to accept that’s what Camila Torres is into.
Trouble.