Chapter 1
Fantasy Skate

The cold air of the Fantasy Skate ice rink slipped in like a frozen sigh through the windows of the shopping mall, brushing against Matías' face as he walked alongside his mother. His shoes slid slightly on the polished floor, but he moved with elegance, as if the insecurity of the surface couldn’t reach him. He wore large, bold sunglasses, not for the sun — which was miles away — but because he liked to stand out. Fashion wasn’t a frivolity to him: it was a declaration of identity, a silent act of resistance.

Victoria, his mother, chatted animatedly about her office work, new clients, the usual tensions. Matías nodded, muttering half-answers, but his attention drifted to the storefronts, the reflections in the glass, the lights flickering like tiny artificial constellations.

"...though it seems you understand what projecting a good image is all about, huh? You could be the new public relations member," Victoria joked, giving him a playful glance.

Matías smiled gently. There was something about the way his mother looked at him that always stirred a mix of pride and fear. Pride from being seen; fear from not being able to fully be himself in her eyes.

"Image is important," he replied, more to himself than to her.

But his eyes were no longer on the stores. They had stopped, almost unwillingly, at the ice rink that stretched ahead like a magical stage. Fantasy Skate, with its dim lights and background music, seemed like a world apart within the mall. There was something hypnotic about the place, a kind of spell that pulled him from deep inside.

"Are you going to stay there long?" Victoria asked, crossing her arms.

Matías nodded, a new glint in his eyes. He wasn’t going to skate. Not today. But he needed to be there. As if something — someone — was waiting for him.

"I like watching them. It’s... inspiring," he said, his voice sounding more honest than he intended.

Victoria checked her phone, distracted.

"Okay. I’ll see if I can find something for the house. I won’t be long."

Matías watched her walk away. And then, finally, he stepped closer. He leaned on the glass railing and watched. The skaters glided as if the ice were an extension of their skin. Some were clumsy, others moved with more ease, but one — only one — captured his full attention.

It was a guy with dark brown hair, wearing a tight t-shirt and sweatpants. His body seemed to move to a rhythm that only he could hear. He spun, jumped, floated. And every time his blades touched the ice, Matías felt something inside him resonate.

He didn’t know him. He had never seen him before. And yet, he was certain that this guy was important.

The seconds stretched, as if time itself had surrendered to the beauty of the moment. Matías held his breath. He didn’t know if it was admiration, desire, or simply an inexplicable call. But what he did know was that he couldn’t take his eyes off him.

A buzzing sound pulled him out of his trance. His phone vibrated. Message from his mother: "I’m on my way."

He looked up, searching for the skater again. But he was gone. Vanished into the bustle, like a dream slipping away just before waking.

"Ready to go, Matías?" Victoria said, appearing at his side.

He nodded, but his mind was still trapped on the rink. On that figure that moved with such grace. On that feeling he couldn’t name, but that already burned inside his chest.

He didn’t know his name. He didn’t know if he would ever see him again. But something inside him had just changed. And Matías knew with sharp certainty: that fleeting encounter, though incomplete, hadn’t been a coincidence.

It was only the beginning.