Theea
maybe there's a way out of the cage where you live
I wasn’t going to go.
I told myself that for days. I’m not really a social event kind of person, and Ludo—Ludo always made me more nervous than the others. But my mom is home. I have friends now. More family. And after Melita’s stories—after seeing how bright her eyes got when she talked about the Herald who guided the dead—I don’t know. Maybe I’m just not scared in the same way anymore.
Which is how I end up here, arms full of fabric and probably looking like a disaster. I’m weaving through the crowd with bolts of silver and deep violet pressed to my chest, a ribbon slipping free and trailing behind me like a very dramatic tail. The market’s alive with last-second chaos, and I slow as I pass a stall packed with masks.
That’s when I see it.
A mask of broken glass and crescent curves, catching the light like starlight. Just like dad's work mask. Small and sharp and strangely elegant. It makes something catch in my throat, and I reach for it before I can even think—
—and bump shoulders with someone beside me.
“Oh! Sorry—” I start, turning, but the apology becomes a laugh when I see who it is. “Mateo! The body shot cousin. You look different without body glitter.”
I told myself that for days. I’m not really a social event kind of person, and Ludo—Ludo always made me more nervous than the others. But my mom is home. I have friends now. More family. And after Melita’s stories—after seeing how bright her eyes got when she talked about the Herald who guided the dead—I don’t know. Maybe I’m just not scared in the same way anymore.
Which is how I end up here, arms full of fabric and probably looking like a disaster. I’m weaving through the crowd with bolts of silver and deep violet pressed to my chest, a ribbon slipping free and trailing behind me like a very dramatic tail. The market’s alive with last-second chaos, and I slow as I pass a stall packed with masks.
That’s when I see it.
A mask of broken glass and crescent curves, catching the light like starlight. Just like dad's work mask. Small and sharp and strangely elegant. It makes something catch in my throat, and I reach for it before I can even think—
—and bump shoulders with someone beside me.
“Oh! Sorry—” I start, turning, but the apology becomes a laugh when I see who it is. “Mateo! The body shot cousin. You look different without body glitter.”
maybe one of these days you can let the light in
