Chapter 5 Unspoken Truths

Tina Moreno splashed cool water on her face, the reflection staring back a determined mix of honey-brown eyes and a cascade of dark curls. Today was the day. Today, she'd finally confess her feelings for Hugo Chavez, the golden boy of Crimville University's international student circle.

Hugo, with his sharp jawline and perpetually windswept hair, was the undisputed heartthrob. Tina, the undisputed beauty, held her own, but her heart belonged solely to him. They were a study in complementary brilliance - both academic all-stars, their paths constantly intersecting in libraries, bustling restaurants, and whispered gossip sessions. They were practically attached at the hip, yet two years in, their relationship remained frustratingly platonic.

A secret yearning gnawed at Tina. Hugo was the reason her gaze had never lingered on any other guy. Yet, their dynamic felt like a perfectly choreographed dance, forever one step away from touching.

Frustration bubbled over as Tina grabbed her phone, about to fire off a text confession, when a frantic banging on her door shattered the morning calm. Lionel, another student and their resident gossip guru, burst in, eyes wide with panic.

"Tina, you gotta see this!" Lionel shoved his phone in her face. The campus forum blazed with a headline that sent a jolt of ice through her veins: "Crimville University Announces Surprise Exchange Program."

Dread coiled in Tina's stomach. This wasn't just any exchange program.Was Hugo's dream school, the one he'd been diligently preparing for. The unspoken truth hung heavy in the air - if chosen, Hugo would leave. And Tina, with her carefully constructed world, would be left with a gaping hole where her best friend, maybe-something-more, used to be.

Tina Moreno punched in the number, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Instead of Hugo Chavez's warm baritone, a sterile automated voice filled her ears. "The number you have dialed is unavailable..."

It had been two agonizing weeks since he'd vanished. Two weeks of frantic calls, unanswered texts, and a gnawing fear that had become a constant companion. Defeated, Tina slumped onto a nearby flowerbed, the vibrant blooms a stark contrast to the leaden weight in her chest. The future stretched before her, a vast, uncharted landscape devoid of hope.

A sudden voice broke through the fog of despair. "Hey, are you Tina Moreno? Looking for Hugo Chavez?"

Tina looked up to see Lionel, Hugo's roommate, jogging towards her. Relief flooded her as she waved him over. "Lionel, thank goodness! Do you know where he went? It's urgent."

Lionel stopped in front of her, a hesitant frown creasing his brow. "Oh, right. Seems something came up back home. He flew back to Venezuela."

Tina's breath hitched. Venezuela? She hadn't expected that. "Can you help me contact him? Or do you know when he'll be back?"

Lionel shook his head regretfully. "Not sure, to be honest. Sounds serious, something about his fiancée..."

The word slammed into Tina like a physical blow. Fiancée? Hugo had a fiancée? How could she not have known? A wave of humiliation washed over her. All this time, chasing after a ghost, making a complete fool of herself.

Ignoring Lionel's calls after her, Tina stumbled away, her vision blurring with unshed tears. A misplaced step sent a jolt of pain shooting up her ankle, forcing her to stop on a nearby bench.

Looking around, she realized she was in Central Park. The familiar symphony of the city played out around her – children's laughter echoing from the playground, couples whispering sweet nothings on picnic blankets, vendors hawking their wares. An ordinary day in a park, oblivious to the storm brewing inside her.

Tina Moreno wrapped her arms around herself, seeking solace from the biting wind that whipped through the deserted bus stop. A faint buzz vibrated in her pocket, momentarily shattering the silence. It was her uncle, Hugo.

"Hello? Tina, where are you? Let's meet up with Damon tonight. I already showed him your picture, and he's very interested!"

At twenty, Tina undeniably possessed a youthful beauty that most men, particularly a fifty-year-old like Damon, would find captivating. She chewed her lip, apprehension tightening her throat. "But Uncle... I don't want to go..."

Hugo's voice boomed through the phone, laced with fury. "Tina! Don't be rebellious! Your father worked so hard to raise you, and this is how you repay him? Can't you make a tiny sacrifice for him?"

Except, Tina wasn't naive. She knew her uncle was simply trying to curry favor with the wealthy Damon. Submitting to him would secure a million dollars to save her father, but the real windfall would go to Hugo.

"Uncle, I'm your niece! How can you do this to me?!"

With a trembling hand, she slammed the phone shut. The world felt tilted on its axis, a suffocating sense of betrayal and manipulation closing in around her. Memories of the past few days flickered across her mind: the accusations, the humiliation, the constant pressure. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over in a torrent of silent despair.

She wept for what felt like an eternity, the raw ache in her chest a constant reminder of her helplessness. Suddenly, a crisp white handkerchief materialized in front of her.

Tina reached out hesitantly, her fingers brushing the soft fabric as she dabbed at her tears. "Thank you," she mumbled, her voice thick with emotion.

A tall figure stood before her, his silhouette obscured by the dim streetlights. He seemed like a mirage, a flicker of kindness in the midst of her despair.

A sliver of warmth seeped into her, prompting her to lift her head. Squinting through the haze of tears, Tina caught a glimpse of the man's features. He was impeccably dressed in white linen pants and a crisp button-down shirt. Gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, failing to diminish the striking handsomeness that seemed to emanate from him. There was a restrained aura about him, an air of quiet confidence that ignited a spark of curiosity within her.

"It's only been a few hours, Miss Moreno," the man spoke, his voice imbued with a hint of amusement. "Have you forgotten me already?"

The voice, so familiar, sent a jolt through Tina. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

"Michael? Is that really you?!" Her voice barely rose above a whisper.

Impossible. Michael Hawkins, the greasy-haired man from last night, stood before her, transformed. Gone were the ill-fitting clothes and the unkempt demeanor. In his place was a polished gentleman, a stranger who somehow wore her former acquaintance's skin.

Was it a trick of the light? A hallucination brought on by stress? Or was it truly him?

Memories of their awkward encounter flooded back, making her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Michael seemed to notice her reaction, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

"I was in the neighborhood and saw you looking troubled. What's wrong? Why the tears?"

His concern, genuine or not, ignited a fresh wave of despair within her. The weight of Hugo's manipulation settled on her shoulders, heavy and suffocating. With a defeated sigh, she slumped onto the bench.

"It's nothing important, Michael. But... I owe you an apology. Remember that five thousand dollars I mentioned last night? I might not be able to pay you after all."