The next morning, sunlight poured through Sofia's bedroom window, casting a soft glow on the faded floral curtains. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, her mind replaying the events of the previous day. Every fiber of her being told her to walk away from this mess, but something kept her tethered to it—maybe it was the thrill, maybe it was the hope that she could somehow turn this bizarre situation into something positive for herself and the shop.
After all, Martínez Records had been her whole life for the past five years. She had poured her heart and soul into it, fighting off the growing wave of CDs and digital music with stubborn determination. But the shop was struggling, just like the vinyl it specialized in. The idea of letting it fail, of losing her dream, was too painful to think about.
Sofia dragged herself out of bed and padded to the kitchen, her feet cold on the tiled floor. As she made a cup of coffee, her thoughts drifted back to Liam. Where was he now? Had he managed to stay hidden overnight? She imagined him holed up in that dingy flat, pacing like a caged animal, trying to figure out his next move.
Her phone buzzed on the counter, pulling her from her thoughts. She picked it up and saw a text from Carmen: "Coffee at the usual spot? 10 a.m.?"
Sofia hesitated. She hadn't told Carmen anything about Liam, and she wasn't sure she could trust herself to keep the secret if they met up. Carmen had a way of getting things out of her, even when she didn't want to talk. But turning down her best friend now would raise suspicions.
"Sure, see you then," she replied, setting her phone down with a sigh.
She'd just have to be careful, that was all. Sofia wasn't great at lying, but she'd figure it out.
By the time Sofia reached the café, the sun was high in the sky, and the streets of Barcelona were already buzzing with activity. Tourists snapped photos of everything in sight, and locals navigated through the crowds with practiced ease. The café was tucked away in a quieter corner of the city, a favorite spot for locals who wanted to escape the chaos.
Carmen was already seated at a table by the window, sipping an espresso and tapping something into her phone. She looked up as Sofia approached and waved her over with a bright smile.
"There you are! I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me," Carmen teased, setting her phone aside.
Sofia smiled back, though it felt forced. "Sorry, I was running a bit behind."
"No worries. Sit, sit," Carmen said, gesturing to the seat across from her. "So, what's new with you? You seem... distracted."
Sofia's stomach tightened. Carmen had always been perceptive, and this morning was no different. "I've just got a lot on my mind. The shop, mostly."
Carmen gave her a sympathetic look. "Still struggling?"
Sofia nodded, taking a sip of her coffee to avoid answering immediately. She could feel Carmen's eyes on her, waiting for her to say more.
"You know I hate seeing you stress about that place," Carmen said after a pause. "I know it means everything to you, but maybe it's time to consider other options."
Sofia's heart sank at the thought. Carmen wasn't wrong. Everyone around her had been telling her the same thing—adapt, change, or close. But she couldn't. Martínez Records was more than just a shop; it was a piece of her. A piece she wasn't ready to give up.
"I know," Sofia said quietly. "But I'm not ready to give up on it yet. Not when there might still be a way to turn things around."
Carmen raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. "A way? What do you mean?"
Sofia hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. This was exactly what she had been afraid of—letting something slip. She took a deep breath and forced a smile. "I'm just saying, I've been thinking about new ideas. Maybe some kind of promotion, or bringing in more rare collections. Something to get people excited about vinyl again."
Carmen studied her for a moment, clearly unconvinced, but she let it go. "Well, whatever you're planning, I hope it works. You know I'm rooting for you."
"Thanks," Sofia said, grateful for the change in topic. She glanced out the window, trying to steady her nerves. The conversation moved on to lighter subjects—Carmen's new job, plans for the weekend—but Sofia's mind kept drifting back to Liam, to the risk she was taking by helping him.
As they finished their coffee and stood to leave, Carmen turned to Sofia with a curious look. "You sure there's nothing else going on? You seem... off."
Sofia froze, her heart skipping a beat. "No, I'm fine. Just tired, I guess."
Carmen nodded, though she didn't seem convinced. "Alright, well, take care of yourself, okay? And let me know if you need anything."
"I will," Sofia promised, giving her friend a hug before they parted ways.
As Sofia walked back toward the shop, the weight of the secret she was carrying pressed down on her. She had managed to get through the conversation without revealing anything, but the constant fear of slipping up was exhausting. And now, more than ever, she needed to keep her head clear.
Back at the flat, Liam was restless. He hadn't slept well, the unease of being in hiding gnawing at him. Every creak of the old building, every car horn outside, had made him jump. He knew it was only a matter of time before the walls closed in on him. But for now, at least, he was still free—barely.
He paced the small living room, his thoughts a tangled mess of regret and uncertainty. He had never imagined his life would come to this. Running from the fame he once craved, hiding in a strange city, relying on a woman he barely knew to help him stay hidden.
Sofia.
Liam couldn't stop thinking about her. She had been his lifeline, the only person willing to help him. And he owed her more than he could ever repay. But how long could he keep dragging her into his mess before it all became too much for her?
He ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the guitar propped against the wall. He hadn't touched it since arriving in Barcelona, the music inside him buried under layers of exhaustion and fear. But now, he felt the pull—the urge to play, to create, to lose himself in something other than his own paranoia.
Liam picked up the guitar, his fingers instinctively finding the chords. The sound echoed softly in the empty flat, a haunting melody that filled the silence. As he played, the tension in his body began to ease, and for a moment, he forgot about the cameras, the fans, the press—everything.
He was just a man with a guitar, playing for no one but himself.
But the peace was short-lived. A knock at the door shattered the moment, sending a jolt of panic through him. Liam froze, his heart racing. No one should know he was here.
The knock came again, louder this time.
Liam set the guitar down and moved toward the door, his mind racing with possibilities. It could be anyone—Sofia, the landlord, or worse, someone who had found him.
He hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened the door a crack, his breath catching in his throat.
A man stood on the other side, his face partially obscured by the shadow of the hallway. But Liam recognized him immediately.
It was someone from his past.