Chapter Text
Once again Carlos Sanchez takes his son's guitar and throws it on the ground before the heart broken boy.
"You're a Sanchez, Manolo." Carlos looks down at him. "Sanchez men don't play the guitar. We're-"
"Bullfighters." Manolo finishes, his brown eyes cast down in a dejected manner. "I know papa."
The older Sanchez hesitates a moment, sympathy flickering in his face before he leaves his son by himself in the deserted street. Manolo sighs and picks up his guitar with a heavy chest. His fingers gently caressing the polished wood of his instrument; lightly plucking at the metal strings. No matter how many times his father crushed his hopes of play guitar, Manolo would never give up his passion. It was something worth fighting for; the dream of one day playing for Maria when she returned. A certain part of him did feel hurt at his father's rejection.
Little Manolo let another sigh pass his lips. "What am I going to do..."
"Keep playing?" you peek your head out from around the corner. Now finding it safe to reveal yourself. "I thought that was a very good song."
"(y/n)." Manolo smiles at you, all the negative feelings he previously had vanished at the sight of you.
"Your dad is gone. Why don't you play for me?" Skipping over to him you sit down on the ground and look up at him eagerly. "Go on Señor Guitarrista!"
With the fluttering of butterflies in his stomach, Manolo nodded. A newfound determination encouraging him to continue his song. Even if it was just for an audiene of one.
(YEARS LATER)
His first bullfight was drawing nearer. Manolo had only you to confied his fears to. Joaquin wouldn't understand this kind of dilemma; he'd probably kill the bull with no hesitation. Manolo couldn't do that; he couldn't take the life of an innocent animal.
"There's nothing wrong with not wanting to kill the bull. It's wonderful that you don't want to kill it. It's a barbaric sport." You tried to give him assurance.
Manolo grins at you. You always managed to make him feel better. You had the exact same aura as Maria. Even if the last time he saw her was when they were children, that's what Manolo imagined Maia would say. "That's what Maria would say."
Right as he said that you instantly stop smiling and turn your head away from him. Fierceness flaring in your eyes as you glare at your shoes. Your sudden change in attitude confuses Manolo.
"(y/n)? Are you okay?"
"No I'm not!" You snap at him making Manolo jump in his seat. "I hate it when you compare me to her!"
"W-Who?"
"Who do you think?!" throwing your chair aside as you get up you scrunch your face in distaste. "Maria! She's all you ever talk about!"
You wanted to stop yelling at him, hating being mad at such a sweet guy like him. Hating that you were so jealous of a girl he hasn't seen in years! The entire time you've known him, Manolo has built her up to be some sort of goddess. You'd been silent before when he compared you to Maria, grinning your teeth so hard you feared they would shatter and squashing down the anger that boiled within. But now you were sick of it.
You felt like crying and you had to clench your teeth tightly making you jaw hurt.
"(y-y/n), I didn't..." Manolo freezes when you turn your glare at him. He had never seen you this angry.
You stormed out of his house. As long as he was in love with Maria, Manolo would never understand how much you loved him. He'd never take the hint that you wanted to be more than friends.