. sustancias

[benicio otero]

Benicio

Whenever he visited Puerto Rico, Benicio always returned with an extra pep in his step. Time with friends and family on the island filled him in a way similar to what making and listening to music did for him, surrounded by the language, food, and ocean views that reminded him of his roots...and happily distracted him from any problems lingering in New York, which he was hard at work trying to forget. Fortunately while one vacation ended, his work continued as he found himself arriving to Jac’s on Bond for drinks with a few people he’d met recently—studio engineers, songwriters—on a project that would be picking up steam in the coming months. The lines blurred between business and pleasure that way, inextricably linked as he became the face and voice of his own art, emerging as more than a name in the credits. Onto the curb and down the stairs to the bar, Benicio quickly understood the ambiance and vibe of the place, himself dressed down and muted for the weeknight evening. Meeting his group with handshakes and chatters, Benicio indulged in his first drink of the night and cheered to being back in the city.

[rosie de la cruz]

Rosie

Everything still felt a little surreal, Rosie's adrenaline continuing at a height she wasn't used to even as she'd handed in her laptop hours ago. Closing another chapter in her life, surrendering the corporate possessions she'd been so convinced had defined her with barely a blink of an eye. At the end of the day her goodbyes at Goldman had been swift and efficient, only sending one courtesy heads up from her personal e-mail address before she keyed herself out of the system. The world had seemed a little brighter ever since walking out those doors. Because she'd been able to make something of herself, been able to get out. Negotiate a salary she deserved, a bonus structure that felt fair - another illicit thrill runs through her at the thought, drawing her straw back into her mouth as her friends chatted animatedly around her in celebration. Even the bar was in good spirits tonight, a mingling crowd and easy buzz thrumming through the smooth speakers, pool cues clacking against the polished table. She watches the group re-rack before her focus drifts behind them, a jolt of familiarity widening her eyes. Then her heart immediately plummets in her chest, eyes rolling as she slumped back against the couch. "Jesus Christ," she murmurs to herself before she sits back up, correcting her posture as she drowned in another sip, tilting her head in Beni's direction when her friends all looked to her. She wasn't going to let anything ruin her mood. Not even him.

[benicio otero]

Benicio

Home was a nebulous feeling when he had links to and connections in several places: Miami, Los Angeles, New York, Boston, San Juan, Medellín. Several studios and apartments felt like home. His travels afforded him excitement and spontaneity, an ever-changing backdrop that stirred up different memories and friend groups and opportunities. Even lovers and heartbreaks in each place, some more serious or straining than others. Being in back in PR was a breath of fresh air after everything fell apart with Rosie, a face and name he was convinced he was done with entirely. It helped to meet others who didn’t look like her or remind him of her, who gave him the time of day, who enjoyed his attention. Girls perfect on paper and in most other ways. Benicio revels in the conversation that quickly unravels after his arrival, drink icing his palm. It’s another place he has never been before, a subconscious box checked off the list the longer he lived here. The sound of pool balls breaking across the felt, a sharp echo against the clattering at the bar, the buzzing murmurs, an eccentric playlist in the background. He doesn’t believe it at first, but the pull in his peripheral is enough to confirm it: she’s here. Because of course she is. Sending a hand over his curls, Benicio found his drink empty and excused himself to the bar, betrayed by the speed of his heartbeat. “Excuse me. Do you have any Puerto Rican rum?” he asked, eyes skimming for something familiar before landing on Don Q. After a sly conversation with the bartender and a tip to a runner, Benicio had sent a rum mule Rosie’s way. He had no way to contact her anymore, but based on the furtive glances of her friends she knew he was there, too.

[rosie de la cruz]

Rosie

The walls of the already small bar seem to pull tighter, Rosie drawing in the biggest breath she can manage after the rest of her drink runs dry. She hadn't seen Beni, let alone heard from him herself or through any of her friends, for just enough time to stop thinking about it. But as it seemed to happen he appeared when she least expected it, eternally off guard and unsure if it infuriated her, or just made her aware how out of her depth she was sometimes. With different lives, with less control, watching the gazes sharpen on her friend's faces when they all finally clued in. She swears one of them gasps when a drink appears suddenly in front of her, the rum strong under her nose the second she plucked it from the server's grip. He was nothing if not a showman. And for once, she's feeling showy. Rosie excuses herself much to her friend's curiosities, slicing through the crowd with the precision of someone small but on a mission as she perched her elbows on the bar next to him. Sipping casually from the drink she keeps her face straight, staring down into its murky depths after its swallowed from her tongue. "Strong."

[benicio otero]

Benicio

It had already been weeks, yet it was only a matter of time. Severing himself from her friends and social media, trying to forget the NC area code, Benicio had enacted a strict protocol like never before. But Rosie was unprecedented in many ways so it only made sense that such great lengths would remedy the even greater feelings. Not quite a breakup or heartache he could define like before, instead a meandering timeline with a downward curve, fuzzy labels and a disquieting gray space. It was released in song lyrics and nights out and heavy conversations in confidence, letting go of something that had never been there in the first place. He doesn’t expect her to come over to the bar, but she was nothing if not a surprise. When it came to her it was best to toss his instincts out the window, that knowing her was like thinking a handful of sand meant you had the whole beach. When her short figure appears next him, his dark eyes lift from the bar shelves and land to the manicured hands around her glass. He hopes she isn’t here to thank him, considering how that blew up last time. Trying not to think about the Governor's Ball or that unsettling car ride without her, not allowing memories of frustration or defeat to stick. “I brought it back from Puerto Rico myself,” he said with the hint of a smile in his voice, sipping at the same one procured for himself, tilted up just enough to offer an unsaid cheers. “Hi Rosie.”

[rosie de la cruz]

Rosie

The drinks she'd already collected in her night's tally were slowly washing through her system, a steady buzz humming in her fingertips. It'd been a day of celebrations, of catching up with good friends and toasting to the listless month she'd negotiated off. A true summer vacation, as thrilling as the rolling days of her youth in North Carolina. Maybe that's why she dares this, lines her toes back up to the line of fights or flirty wordplay. Beni sometimes generated the same spark off her skin, lips curling now at his proclamation. Putting her energy into the present, the now, pushing away the last things she'd felt when she was around him because if she wanted to continue having fun, she'd either have to dispatch this or lean in. "Hi, Beni." She casts her eyes over her shoulder, not recognizing anyone he was with though she rarely had to begin with. Always on the move, while she stayed hesitantly out of reach. "New crowd?"

[benicio otero]

Benicio

The city was large but not without the possibility that he would see her or hear about Rosie, like wandering into a spider’s web and feeling the pull of its tenuous threads. There were addresses and sights that echoed with her memory, most of Chelsea reminding him of her. Benicio thought briefly of Nora but didn’t risk another glance at her friends, who were most likely watching with bated breath anyway. It was always a wonder what the narrative was, how she felt about him, if she had ever so much as thought of him since their last night…although it seems there never truly was a last night with her, like a goodbye could never hope to fully set. Tonight his spirits are high and he doesn’t want to fight or rile her up, choosing to see this moment as an unexpected gift while trying to smother any vestige of hope. Weeks of forgetting and stifling were nullified by the sight of her, the sound of her voice, only waiting for the shock of her gaze. The question left was whether to pick up where they left off or start anew, rather an intermission than an end. “New friends, new project,” he answered, still so susceptible to her attention. His private smile: a little of this, a little of that. “You?” he returned easily, glance vaguely lifting to tip toward her friends. “Special occasion? Celebrating or commiserating?”

[rosie de la cruz]

Rosie

She keeps waiting for the warning bells to start going off again. For some deep-rooted defenses to lock in place, for the wariness to creep in. The past few times they'd seen each other hadn't been peaceful, or even kind, Rosie all but throwing herself into a building she'd barely felt comfort in by the end of it. But she didn't have to feel anything for it now, one LinkedIn update away from leaving it in her peripheral. Closing a door, while a sliver of light remained cast from another. What she didn't want to offer was hope. A lifeline for their past, a clean slate. Neither of them deserved that and she'd experience so much upheaval lately she wasn't fully sure which way was up. But tonight she was buoyed by the possibilities, the here and now and the taste of rum on her tongue. "A little this, a little that," she repeats, the line that always crept between them, finally feeling steady (or drunk) enough to turn her body his direction. "Celebrating," Rosie exclaims, knocking her glass against his. "Cheers to me, my new job, and my month off."

[benicio otero]

Benicio

Take the edge off. Enough time and enough drinks does trick, helping them to forget the acidity and heat of their last moments. Unfortunately, however, after such a strike to the senses, most others feel muted as a result. Small rises and falls against a backdrop of former peaks and valleys, magnified in amplitude and intensity such that the same emotional punch is craved. “Ah,” Benicio hummed in acknowledgement, the corners of his lips curling with amusement. An inside joke, an old routine that couldn’t be shaken. Given a chance to replay it all and try for a different end, a do-over. “Wow, congratulations,” he says, flashing a smile at her news. Full and bright and genuine, bowing to the joy of it all, no strings attached. He doesn’t need to ask the details or panic her with his curiosity, feeling the glass vibrate in his hand from their cheers, an easy salud preceding a hearty pull of spicy rum. “You look beautiful,” he murmurs, a brazen gaze washing over her as she afforded more of herself to his view. Addicted to intimate moments and indulged senses, cloyed by the scent of her perfume, the warmth of her proximity, the height offset that made them center one another. “And happy,” he notes, studying her features with a flicker of his dark eyes. “That’s all I need to know. I won't be nosy.”

[rosie de la cruz]

Rosie

"Thank you," she murmurs, surprised to find herself accepting both comments honestly. So used to brushing things off, or demurring when it came to her accomplishments because they sometimes felt silly in the grand scheme of things. Making her own choice to leave seems to have already shifted a lot of things, chin tipping higher with another grin. Maybe she really was happier after all. And it's nice, to not have to explain it further. "And I am," she offers, eyes flitting up then down in quick study. "You look tan," Rosie finally decides, assuming he'd been off somewhere tropical, likely Puerto Rico, resulting in the same lax hold she seemed to have on her own body. Loosened guards, surface curiosities...it felt familiar to the night they'd first met, just a little steadier. Choosing to lean into it she sighs, shoulders drifting up and down at the motion as she fully boxes out of her friends. "What does it look like they're thinking?" Rosie tests, tilting her head back to motion toward the group of girls. Testing something, though what she still isn't sure, just following the lead of the evening.

[benicio otero]

Benicio

Many changes had happened since they met. A girl once so busy and absorbed with her work, who could hardly separate her identity from her career, her twenties quickly disappearing behind a computer screen. Suddenly she was at festivals and new bars and beachy getaways, surprising Benicio each time she seemed to be slackening her grip on life. Less control and more surrender, it seemed. Part of him was dismayed to have missed out on it, or even lent himself as an unknowing catalyst, but her renewed smile was enough for him to celebrate without needing to wonder about his role, if any. And there was no way to know with Rosie. His eyes travel along his own arm, the bronzed skin and snaking ink of his tattoos confirming her observation. “I just got back. It was a holiday in Puerto Rico and there were some big birthdays,” he explained, waving it off as to omit unnecessary details. This wasn’t the night to remind of their connections, to remember names and faces from a chapter thought closed for good. “I haven’t had to speak English in weeks,” he teased with a smirk, watching the levels of their drinks sink. Comfortable and easy, gleaning from the ways they could be before all the complicated flavors of their lives. At her question he followed her eyes, a brow quirking in thought. “’Oh my god, this guy again?’” he guessed, loosening his accent and hitching up to a raspy falsetto. “They probably think this is a very romantic coincidence. Or that I’m crazy,” he laughed, hoping the truth was somewhere in the middle for once than an extreme.

[rosie de la cruz]

Rosie

Her suspicions are confirmed, thoughts drifting briefly to the family he'd mentioned there before snapping back to the warmth of the bar. She felt bad for not following up about his sister but something was telling her to feign this sense of distance. Not as direct as before, a wall he'd shoved against again and again, but one of familiar strangers. Exchanging stories, testing humor or similarities. Again she thinks of feeling out of place the first time they'd met, and how at times he'd felt that way in her life. Now she was more in her territory physically, eyes catching his on a laugh at the girlish imitation of her friends. "They might think you have an AirTag on me somewhere," she half jokes, hitting empty on her drink. "But I don't know. I seem to have a thing for running into people where I least expect them." As if she'd been expected at Gov Ball, a surprise for both him and her ex. Rosie waves it off quickly, not looking to rehash any of that night for now, another drink appearing seamlessly in her wake. She holds it up to the bartender in thanks before turning back to him, tilting her head. "Am I holding up a very important project?"

[benicio otero]

Benicio

They had always been on different frequencies. It was novel at first, a challenge, a curiosity. Then it slid into incompatibilities and glaring opposites, a puzzle missing too many pieces to come together, trying to fit things into shapes they could never be. Perhaps blinded by the rosy vision afforded by instant gratification and wild lust, those early stages of excitement and wonder as they got to know one another. Something of this ease was still there and possible, going back to the basics, as simple as their eyes and body language and talking about nothing in particular. “Ay dios,” he chided with a roll of his eyes just for her, amused by the hypothetical raised in jest. “I don’t even have your phone number anymore,” he reasoned with a smirk, leaning on his elbow to offer more of himself to her view. An effort to prove he was trying to get over her, not necessarily a mention to make it hurt. “Nah, it’s just casual,” he answered, not worried by the looming presence of his group. They likely saw his current company and understood his prolonged absence at the bar. Across that same bar came another drink to his palm, mirroring hers, another easy cheers before it's on his tongue. “I’m leaving again for another trip soon. More work when I get back,” he reasoned, a blurry calendar out of reach. “I hope you’re having a good summer.”

[rosie de la cruz]

Rosie

"All the more reason for the tag," she continues, trying to mask her surprise at his confession. Though she really shouldn't have been - that last fight in the car gave as much resignation as it did a closing chapter, now thumbing through the acknowledgments before the back cover and wondering if there was anything else hidden. An excerpt, a hint, how things might go moving forward...but unfortunately life wasn't as open and closed as a book, Rosie far too aware of the liminal space and room for error. Casual. Casual. Something in her brain clicks in tune to the tip of their glasses, eyes drifting to the glittering bottles artfully arranged behind the bar as she pondered something. Wondered if there was even a possibility anymore for it, chasing the chemistry that still churned between them in this kind of proximity. But that, only that, another area she'd rarely ventured into because it never seemed to suit her. A scramble of wants and needs, timelines mapped in her brain and possibilities calculated. "You're the busier one for once," she murmurs, features set as she turned back to him. "I am. And now have four weeks before I start at my next role so...possibilities are a little endless."

[benicio otero]

Benicio

Even now they couldn’t seem to land on the same wavelength. Him freshly back from vacation, her about to indulge in her own. Him working on something new, her waiting for a new opportunity to start. Usually all work and no play, suddenly out on a weeknight…how the tables had turned, and unfortunately when he wasn’t around to enjoy the spoils. But it’s rewarding enough to know that this was a possibility, perhaps one Benicio wasn’t patient enough to see through to fruition. How a misstep months ago had changed everything, turned the ease they were currently enjoying once more, perhaps lulled by the promise of it being only temporary. Casual. “I’m always busy,” he explained with a shrug that loosened his shoulders. Busy in ways often different than what she could relate to or understand. “But I need some play with my work too,” he added pointedly, commandeering her gaze for a moment, eyes darting to the lips briefly wrapped around her straw. How automatic it was to be consumed by her attention, an urge to reach out, to be closer, to forget their surroundings. “So this is you on vacation mode,” he said in realization, equal parts intrigue and appreciation. They rarely had a chance to be available at the same time, vying for her precious hours of free time. “I’ve always been curious,” he confessed, leaned against the bar toward her. “I like this, it suits you.”