First Encounter

Othon

The night is progressing, and how much I've already drunk is a mystery to me. I'm in a state of relaxation that only vacations can provide. I still maintain enough sobriety to admire the natural beauty before me. And when I talk about natural beauty, I'm not exactly thinking about nature itself. I make this observation to my friends, who laugh in response.

"The problem is you only keep looking, Othon," Colin complains.

"And I don't understand why. Are you saving yourself for the love of your life?" The question comes from Noah, who grimaces just at the mention of the word "love."

"Maybe…" I give the same answer as always.

The atmosphere is quite lively on another day of vacation in Fernando de Noronha. Colin, Noah, and I are making the most of this paradise of sun and sea. We're completely different, but from the moment we met, we became inseparable friends, always choosing the same destination for our vacations.

I continue sipping my drink calmly when I notice the entrance of a goddess. The girl is simply stunning. Black, with long curly hair and a sculpted body, a perfect vision of exuberance. My friends notice my change of expression and follow my gaze, coming face to face with the same impressive sight that captured me.

"Who is that goddess?" I ask, almost whispering, but with excitement evident in my voice.

My friends laugh again, realizing that something unusual is about to happen. It's amazing how a presence can change the course of an already fun night.

My eyes can't seem to stray from the woman who caught my attention, but I notice she is quite reserved. Her gaze remains fixed on the people in her group, composed of five women, all incredibly beautiful. However, my attention is fully focused on her in particular. She is the vision dominating my thoughts on this night in Fernando de Noronha.

"I'm completely enchanted," I confess to my friends.

Othon, bluntly, says something I feared:

"I'm sorry to say, but she doesn't seem to reciprocate your interest."

Noah, adding to the sincerity of the moment, opines:

"In fact, she doesn't seem interested in meeting anyone tonight."

In a moment of self-awareness, I realize that the three of us are focusing on my girl and discussing her. However, she doesn't even glance in our direction, just like her friends also seems oblivious to our existence.

"Maybe she's just a lesbian," Noah suggests, studying the situation with a critical eye.

Even in the face of uncertainty suggested by my friends, I maintain the conviction that this isn't the case. I persist in my attempt to capture her attention.

"I'm more than willing to bet she'll succumb to my charms," I assert, determined, as my beloved's eyes continue to avoid mine.

My friends respond with laughter and wishes of good luck when I announce that I'm going to try to approach her. With a confident smile, I begin my journey toward the woman who is stirring my senses, fully determined to win her gaze amidst the crowd at the bar.

Reaching the group of women proved more challenging than I imagined, given the crowded venue. Loud music, laughter, and lively conversations create a chaotic scene, making it difficult for me to pass through. However, determined, I maneuver through the crowd, keeping my focus on reaching my girl amidst the hustle and bustle.

Just one step away from her, my heart races with the anticipation of the impending encounter, especially when I notice she is now alone, her friends seeming to have suddenly disappeared. However, my path is abruptly interrupted by a man who appears in front of me, inviting her to dance. The girl declines, but the man persists, offering her a drink. Again, she refuses, and the situation becomes more uncomfortable when the man becomes pushy, grabbing her arm.

Understanding the need to intervene when the young woman politely asks him to release her arm, I approach boldly:

"Didn't you hear the lady?" I ask firmly. "Let her go."

The man, visibly agitated, responds defiantly:

"Get lost, man! I got here first!"

I realize from his disjointed speech that he has had more to drink than he should have, and I decide to be more assertive, blatantly lying:

"I think you didn't understand, but she's with me."

The girl looks at me, surprised and grateful at the same time. The man seems momentarily taken aback but releases her arm.

"You should take better care of what's yours, idiot," he says, annoyed, and finally walks away.

"I was cursed at, but you managed to get rid of that guy," I say, and my smile is entirely sincere.

My muse is even more stunning up close; I am captivated. I hope my intervention was enough to ward off the unwanted intruder and, at the same time, create an opportunity to talk to the woman who captured my heart that night in Fernando de Noronha.

"I'm Othon," I introduce myself. "And you are...?"

I extend my hand to the young woman who captured my heart, feeling it almost skip a beat at her hesitation to accept my gesture of courtesy. I breathe a sigh of relief when she finally responds.

"Karen," she says without much conviction.

"Karen," I savor the name, which fits her perfectly, and I can't resist offering an honest compliment: "It's a beautiful name."

The expression on her face betrays a certain discomfort, and I immediately regret complimenting her name. I'm not naive. I know that many men use this subterfuge to win over women, but I was totally sincere. I apologize immediately, although she brushes it off with a simple "thank you," claiming she's already leaving.

I'm certain it was just an excuse not to continue the conversation because until I arrived, she didn't seem about to leave. However, I have no choice but to bid farewell and return to my friends. I don't want to be another one imposing my presence on her, like the other man who approached.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Karen," again, I wasn't just speaking out of courtesy.

I regret that my approach wasn't well received and turn away disheartened, ready to walk back to my friends. However, before I can take the first step, I hear my name being called. Surprised, I quickly turn back to Karen.

I stare at her expectantly, waiting for what she has to say.

“Would you... like a drink?”

Consternation overtakes me at Karen's unexpected offer, but I quickly try to disguise it. My face lights up with genuine surprise, and for a moment, I'm at a loss for words.

“Oh, thank you!” I express my gratitude, accepting the drink. “I would love to.”

Karen smiles lightly, and for an instant, our eyes meet. A new energy seems to hang in the air, and my heart, which moments ago was disheartened, now beats faster with the possibility of something unexpected and intriguing happening that night.