Plinio's POV:   "That was freaking awesome!" Celeste squeals after the performance are over. "I didn't even know you can play guitar."    I tell her that I bought it recently from the shop next door to the Coffee Canteen. Although I am pretty bad at it she says I'll excel with time. Whatever that means.   "There's one more thing," I wiggle my eyebrows and take her inside the hall.   "I'll have a heart attack at this rate, Plinio. What is it now?" She tugs at my arm as her eyes study the place another time. I don't answer her for obvious reasons, a surprise is a surprise.    Then I find the woman I've been searching for, the in-charge of this cente

Plinio's POV:   Colorful clothes, awful wigs, fake accents disguised us just fine, but Aunt Mary's lovely opinions about every dress hanging in Poppy's boutique revealed everything. Poppy and Aunt Mary had a silent war then. They kept throwing daggers at each other with their scary eyes. It ended at Mary's final remark in which she mentioned some fashion show being held in summer.   I have no idea what that is but Celeste says it is a fashion war where clothes are a weapon and the best designer wins on the basis of the audience's votes. Both Poppy and Mary lost last year. This year might make someone and break another.   My whole body ached when I lay in bed later that night. I was happy that something good came out of it and Celeste will participate in that competition. But

Plinio's POV:    "My son....just for him...filing a divorce." I remember hearing these words from my mother's mouth while I was hiding under the bed. Then she started screaming and after an intense quarrel, a gunshot ended everything.   I thought she was going to leave me. How foolish I was! All I cared about was the fear to see my parents separating from each other. I should have seen that they were not together anymore already. My father's abuse had broken them miles apart. I should have stood by my mother and not stopped her from doing anything. A mother knows everything. She must have known my fear too. I have done so much wrong.   Last night was the toughest of all. Not only Mom was on my mind, but Celeste was also dri

Celeste's POV:   There are moments like when I'm painting and I want to replay them. There are moments like when I'm enjoying being with someone I care for and I want to pause it. Then there are moments like hearing the news of my Dad's death or seeing the look of betrayal on Plinio's face and I want to fast forward them.   I want to escape the raw emotions it stirs inside me and get over the pain. I want to skip those moments and wake up like nothing happened. But I am hopeless and marooned by my own limbs and acuity.   "Angel!" Kevin calls out to me from the living room. I place my brush on the palette and exit my room to go to him. He's been working on his assignment on my laptop since he hasn't been working.   "

Thanks to the king-sized bed, we lie next to each other. My eyes are facing the ceiling with my hands behind my head and Celeste is probably awake too. The lights are off and only the moonlight seeping through the white curtains is dimly illuminating the room. Her rhythmic breathing and the chirping of crickets outside are in harmony with each other.    "I was going to break up with Kevin even before Trevor told me about Kevin and Stella," she owns up in a hushed tone. "Even before Kevin did what he did."   Yes, I wanted her to break up with Kevin for my selfish reasons but I wish she had broken up with him the very first time he hit her. I wish she had broken up with him for herself, for the care one must-have for one's body.   I turn to look at her, putting my hands b