The golden hues of the setting sun painted the sky over the serene beaches of Spain.

You had dreamed of this summer vacation for as long as you could remember, and now, here you were, with your closest friends, making memories you knew you’d treasure forever.

The sound of waves lapping against the shore was the perfect backdrop to your laughter. Your friends were busy snapping pictures, running along the sand, and taking in the peaceful yet vibrant atmosphere of the beach.

“Hey girls, don’t you think this is the perfect moment to listen to those Spanish songs?” one of your friends said with a grin, pulling out a playlist she had saved just for the trip.

“Yesssss!” you all yelled in unison, bursting into laughter as the familiar beats of Ride or Die Pt. 2 filled the air.

You were lost in the rhythm, trying (and failing) to sing along to the lyrics. You loved Spanish music—it was so catchy and full of energy—but you didn’t understand a single word. It didn’t matter, though. The joy in the moment was enough.

Just then, as you danced without a care, two men walked past, their voices carrying over the music. One of them, with dark, windswept hair and a mischievous smirk, glanced at you and said to his friend, “¿Crees que conocen la traducción?” (“Do you think they know the translation?”)

His friend chuckled, shaking his head. “No, creo que no lo saben.” (“No, I don’t think they do.”)

Their voices and expressions caught your attention, but it was the first man who stood out. His sharp jawline, deep brown eyes, and confident stride made your heart skip a beat.

Before you could stop yourself, you turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “What did you just say?”

The man halted mid-step, clearly surprised you’d addressed him.

His smirk deepened as he turned to face you fully. “I said.” he began, his voice smooth and tinged with an accent, “I don’t think you know the translation.”