ACT II: ROSE QUARTZ AND SERENITY
There was once a young actor —not that old, he was talented, he was gifted.
This young actor, now bright and bold, no longer wore the masks his crowd of thousands once adored. No longer was he the young naive actor who feeds on the validation of others —the smiles of the people he entertains.
The myriad of masks he once kept, now thrown away, drowning in the river of the past. Not past long forgotten, but a past worth looking back to. The past is what made him who he is today after all. He'd dare not to forget it.
"Who are you?" The mirror asked, shocked at the growth the young actor had made. Gone were the days he'd ask the old mirror who he is every single day. But shocked the mirror was, it was relieved to finally see him flourish into a wonderful person that he is today.
"I am me." The actor replied with glee, staring at his reflection with love.
"My, my and who could you be?" The stray cat asked, licking their paws, Intrigued at how far the young actor had come. They reminisced on that faithful day where the young actor was but mere hopeless being, unsure of himself and what to be in life.
"Someone who is living their best life." He said with a smile, stepping on a puddle as he passed by.
"You're looking pretty swell. My dear. Has life treated you well?" A familiar voice called, it was the sweet little Moon fairy. With a smile, she made her descent from the heavens to the ground he stood upon with his mortal feet.
"Better than ever."
"Have you figured out who you are?" She finally asked, her smile still ever so serene underneath the moonlight, her hair glistened like precious silk as it danced amongst the wind.
"Yes." He replied with confidence, his heart racing by the second.
"Who are you then?"
"Someone who finally learned to love himself as he is." He breathes, finally he was able to open up his eyes and learned to love and appreciate everything. Finally, he was able to love himself.
There was once a young boy —now a man, who seeks worth from the people around him. He was uncertain, insecure, and most of all, he felt useless.
Uncomfortable he felt as himself, wearing his own skin felt unnatural the longer he shifted into different people. He doesn't feel like himself.
Groomed to be an entertainer, to serve, and self-sacrifice. He was molded into a person who gives and gives but never takes, ‘put others' well-being first before your own.’ his grandmother would say.
‘We serve our community. Keep the candle's flame bright and forever burning.’
"But what about me? But what about us?" He asked to the photo of his grandmother, he would never had the guts to speak his mind to her. They all do.
He watched his own mother be drenched in the rain she made, watering the crops outside with a frown. The constant repressing of emotions to the point she fears the she might eventually forget what it feels to love, to be genuinely happy.
He watched as his sister, his beloved sister, drown in the voices of the people every night, every second of the day. He watched her slowly lose her mind with everything that's going around her, the secrets she has to keep in order to not disrupt the community's peace. Her cries begging to make everything stop did not go unheard of by him. Her gift is hardly a blessing at all, it was a curse.
He watched the exhausted look his Tiá Julieta tries so desperately to hide from everyone, the endless cooking and cooking she'd done everyday for the citizens of the village. He could also see how little she eats at the dinner table, it was obvious that she can't stomach her own cooking anymore.
He watched Mirabel get shunned —disregarded by everyone, as she desperately tries everything to be of use to the family. He watched her crestfallen face when she got simply ignored by everyone, he watched her force a smile when their Abuela softly and offhandedly told her to stay out of everyone's way.
He watched everyone in his family try to hide their dispair, their troubles. All of them collectively knew, that Abuela wouldn't bat an eye at their woes, just as long it doesn't hurt the magic.
"What about us? You said we have to protect our family, but why does it feel like it's slowly falling apart the more we tried?"
He watched and he watched, helplessly as he doesn't know how to approach the matter properly. So he does the only thing he could do best, distract.
A momentary respite, a small distraction to make you avert your eyes from the slow cracks forming on the so-called ‘picture-perfect family’ the Madrigals are famed to be.
His troubles seem miniscule compared to the rest of the family, the least he could do is to at least make them smile, distract them from their woes. After all, they're fighting a much harder battle than what he's fighting against anyways.
"Camilo?" His head turned to face the owner of the voice, he was glad that everything that had transpired was over. He's relieved that he doesn't need to live up to anyone's expectations anymore, he's relieved that he can freely do what his heart wants.
"Yeah?"
"Are you okay? You've been staring into the abyss for so long, that I thought I've lost you." He smiled at her, her hands and face dirtied with paint as she was painting the town's new mural. She generously offered his Abuela to paint a new mural at the town's square, to which Alma happily agreed. Camilo brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face, tucking it in behind her ear with a loving smile.
"I'm just thinking how lucky I am to have you."
"You're such a sap, mi Cielo." She rolled her eyes at him, she diverting her attention away from him and back to the mural. He did not miss the small tint of pink coloring her paint riddled face.
"Yeah, but only for you." He couldn't help but steal a small kiss from her, she's just to cute not too.
His love, his everything. Call him obsessive, but he'll be truly lost without her. He'll plant a meadow of red and white carnations all for her to see if he has to.
The five years they've been together, was the best years of his life. He never felt so alive, her family is absolutely charming and loving. Her mother treats him like her own, and her father, who's still expressionless as ever, does the same in his own quirky way.
He feels too much, loves too much. He fears that it might be too much for her, he doesn't want to cross any boundaries he's not allowed to step on. He loves her, yes, very very much. However,
With love comes with respect, he oftentimes tells himself.
If you do not respect her, then you do not love her. Simple. That is no longer love, that is obsession, lust, or any of the negatives at this point.
‘Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind.’
He has quite a long way in properly understanding and projecting the emotions he feels, he knows she definitely does too. But it's fine if it takes a long time, because a long time feels less lonely if they're together.
"Camilo?"
"You want coffee?"
"Ay, you know me so well."
Of course I do.