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EPISODE 6 : THE CHEF & THE CHORE BOY ( Mar Y Sol )
SHE ARRIVED LIKE the tide, washing into the shores of Punto Alto in a shipwrecked boat, taking in water and leaving her remnants embedded in the sand.
Estrella Narváez was fifteen at the time, young and curious and everything she hadn't been before her parents had finally given in to her teenage wants.
It was the middle of summer — Estrella remembers the moments vividly, the memory replaying in her head even when her eyes are shut, begging to forget.
Marisol Cáliz arrived a windswept mess of sun-bleached blonde and freckled skin, dimpled canine grin, and ocean blue gaze. It was summer, and Estrella was lonely until she came along.
The Cáliz family was small — It was just Marisol and a man she called her 'older brother'. They didn't particularly look alike, as he was tall, broad, and pale and she was lean, small, and tan. His name was Joaquín Cáliz, and that small, insignificant surname that they shared was the only indication that they were family.
Joaquín was a shadow, and Estrella never saw him unless he wanted to be seen. She didn't care to look for him, because he was a frightening man, covered in scars and with piercing amber eyes that seemed to cut into Estrella as if he was looking through her.
Marisol was freshly turned seventeen, and it was easy for Estrella to fall into her ocean blue eyes and earthy scent — The older girl was an enigma meant solely for Estrella to find the answer to, and she was more than willing to play her mischievous game of Cat and Mouse.
And soon Estrella was sixteen, and Marisol Cáliz became a codependency, a soft murmur of gentleness in the dead of night, and the small light that made Estrella feel a bit warmer, a bit more human.
Being a shield was something Marisol excelled at. She was as resilient as she was brave, and those foolish traits both made and broke Estrella Narváez.
There was nothing waiting for Estrella outside of the home she was stuck in — But for Marisol Cáliz, the world was her oyster and it was evident through her eyes.
Marisol Cáliz wasn't someone she could keep to herself, because she had never once belonged to Estrella Narváez.
PUNTO ALTO SWAYS alongside the breeze, and Estrella let it carry her to the pier, her bare feet coated with dirt and sand.
She finds what she's searching for with ease. Marisol Cáliz loves the sea the way Estrella yearns to love something that so abhors her.
They are different in that sense. Both yearn, yet only one can be granted the reciprocation of a twisted love.
