Chapter Three
T he morning sunlight streams through the large dorm window, casting a golden glow over the room, and I wake to the sound of birds chirping and the distant hum of city life outside.
For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m genuinely excited to step into the day.
Madrid is alive, but my dormmates are not. I’d heard them come back to the room just before six o’clock this morning, so I highly doubt that they’ll wake anytime soon.
I get ready as quietly and as quickly as I can so as not to disturb them. After enjoying breakfast in the hostel’s common area - a mix of pastries, strong coffee, and fruit - I decide to make my way toward El Retiro Park. It’s one of the places Sofía recommended yesterday, and her enthusiasm about it has stuck with me.
The park is, of course, breathtaking. Tree-lined paths seem to stretch out in every direction, their leaves rustling gently in the January breeze. I sit by the water for a while, letting the tranquil atmosphere soak into me.
It’s nice to take some time out and relax, something I’ve never really indulged in back home.
I snap a quick photo and send it to my mum and Laura before I leave to find lunch .
There are so many familiar fast-food options, but I decide to avoid those and wander into a small café nearby. The menu is entirely in Spanish, but I’m determined to embrace the culture. I stumble through my order, and the waiter’s kind smile assures me that my efforts aren’t entirely embarrassing.
He’s heard worse, I’m sure.
The food is simple but delicious: a fresh tortilla espanola paired with a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade. I have no interest in waiting around, though, and by the time I return to the hostel, the sun is starting to dip toward the horizon; its warm, amber light washes over the city, casting long shadows.
I walk into the dorm to discover that Ben, Camila, and Zoey are all there, sprawled across their respective beds.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that none of them have moved much at all today.
“You’re back!” Camila exclaims, sitting up and flashing me a bright smile. “How was your day?”
“It’s been great,” I say, dropping my bag onto my bed.
“Good,” Camila says. Her eyes sparkle mischievously. “And you’re still coming out with us tonight, right?”
Zoey, who’s sitting cross-legged with her phone in hand, looks up with a small smile. “It’s karaoke night.”
“Karaoke?” I say, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Ben says, laughing. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to sing. But we will. And you don’t want to miss it.”
I hesitate for a moment, but then I remember my promise. And honestly… I don’t want to miss it either.
“Okay,” I say, smiling. “I’m in.”
Camila claps her hands together. “Yes! You won’t regret it.”
∞∞ ∞
There’s a buzz of excitement in the room as we get ready together. Camila helps me pick an outfit, insisting that my simple sundress needs a little something extra.
She places a chunky necklace from her own collection around my neck, and I have to admit that it works.
When we finally step out into the warm evening air, the city feels alive. The streets are filled with laughter and music coming from all different directions and establishments, and the laid-back, relaxed atmosphere couldn’t be further away from what I’m used to.
The bar is tucked away down a narrow side street, and the sound of laughter and off-key singing spills out from inside before we even reach the door. It’s packed with people, and the air buzzes with energy - the kind of cheerful chaos that is exactly what I need.
Ben takes charge and heads straight to the bar to order the first round of drinks. Before long, Camila is up on stage, belting out a dramatic rendition of Dancing Queen.
She’s twirling in her heels like she’s performing at a sold-out show, her voice exaggerated and full of flair. The crowd eats it up, cheering her on with wild applause. Even Zoey - who I’ve only ever seen as reserved and composed - cups her hands around her mouth to shout and laugh in playful encouragement.
“You having fun?” Ben asks, leaning over to me as we watch Camila throw in a spin so dramatic it earns a collective gasp from the growing audience .
“Yeah,” I say, laughing as she dips to her knees and belts out the chorus. “This is fun!”
It’s nice to not have to lie about that.
The drinks keep flowing, and the energy in the room grows brighter as the night goes on. Before I know it, Camila is dragging me onto the stage for a duet, ignoring my half-hearted protests as she hands me the second microphone.
“I can’t sing!”
“Neither can I!” she counters, grinning as the opening notes of I Wanna Dance With Somebody begin to play.
I groan as she tugs at my arm, and not wanting to be a real party pooper, I decide to get up on stage and just get it over with.
One song, I mouth to her.
The first verse is a disaster. My voice is shaky and I forget half the words on account of my nerves, but despite how bad I know it must be, the crowd are a polite bunch who cheers us on anyway. Camila takes the lead, her confidence infectious, and by the time we hit the chorus, I’m dancing along with her, belting out the lyrics with abandon.
For the first time in a long time, I’m not over thinking or worrying.
I’m living, and it feels so good.
When we come offstage, breathless and laughing, the group cheers for us, raising their glasses as Ben hands me a drink.
“See? You’ve got some pipes after all,” he says.
“Absolutely not,” I respond with a shake of my head, though I can’t stop smiling. “Nobody needed to hear or see that. In fact, you’re all sworn to secrecy about what you’ve just witnessed! ”
As I take a sip of my drink, a man approaches from across the room. He’s tall, with sandy blond hair and a confident, easygoing smile.
“You were great up there,” he says, nodding toward the stage.
“Oh, thanks,” I reply, laughing nervously.
“You looked like you were having fun,” he continues, stepping closer. “Can I get you another drink?”
I glance down at the glass in my hand, still nearly full, and then back up at him. He’s handsome enough, with his easy smile and confident stance, but I feel nothing beyond polite indifference.
“I’m good, thanks,” I say, keeping my tone light.
“Are you sure?” he presses, his voice friendly, but there’s a hint of insistence. “One more won’t hurt. My treat.”
“I’m good,” I repeat, a little firmer this time, lifting my glass as proof. “Still working on this one.”
He chuckles, tilting his head as if trying to charm me.
“Alright, fair enough. What about a dance, then? Just one song?”
Ugh. This guy will not take a hint.
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. I’m still catching my breath from karaoke.”
“Come on,” he presses, his smile unwavering. “It’s just one dance. You seem like the most fun person in this room. You can’t leave me hanging.”
Something in his tone makes me shift uncomfortably. It’s not aggressive, but there’s a persistence that feels too much.
“I appreciate it,” I say, keeping my voice steady but firm. “But I’m not really in the mood to dance. ”
“Why not?” he asks, leaning in slightly. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be sitting on the sidelines.”
I take a step back, forcing a small smile.
“I’m just here to have fun with my friends tonight. Thanks, though.”
He hesitates for a moment, clearly not used to hearing no, but finally shrugs, his smile turning sheepish.
“Alright. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
As he walks away, I exhale softly, my shoulders relaxing.
Camila sidles up beside me, raising an eyebrow. “Friend of yours?”
“Not exactly,” I reply, rolling my eyes. “Some guys don’t know when to quit.”
“Good for you,” she says, clinking her glass against mine. “I can tell that he wasn’t your type, anyway.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I don’t even have a type anymore. I’ve sworn off men!”
Camila smirks knowingly. “You keep telling yourself that, Liv.”
Despite her teasing, I can’t help but smile. For all her drama and flair, she always knows how to make me feel lighter.
The night continues, the group’s energy never wavering as we laugh and joke like nothing else in the world matters.
It’s a reminder of how much I needed this.