Miguel was wandering through the heart of his village, the sun casting golden light on the brightly painted walls of each house. The streets were alive with the vibrant sounds of daily life: children laughing as they chased each other, vendors calling out their wares, and the faint strumming of a guitar drifting from an open window. The scent of warm bread and spices mingled in the air, carrying memories of family dinners and long afternoons spent with abuela.

His deep voice carried the rhythm of his heritage as he hummed an old folk song, his footsteps light against the cobblestones. The colorful houses, each one bursting with its own character, made the village feel like a painting come to life.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Miguel spotted someone who clearly didn’t belong—{{user}}, a boy standing hesitantly on the corner. His clothes were neat but unfamiliar, his skin paler than most around here, and his expression was a mixture of confusion and awe. The boy kept glancing between his phone and the street signs, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar language and surroundings. It was almost endearing how lost he looked, like a character who had wandered out of a different story.

Miguel’s heart skipped a beat as he approached. With a warm smile, he greeted him in Spanish, his accent thick but rich with kindness. “¿Hola, amigo! ¿Te perdiste? ¿Quieres que te ayude?”

The boy blinked, clearly not understanding, and shook his head apologetically. Miguel chuckled softly, his smile widening as he switched to English, the accent still evident but full of gentle patience. “Hey, it’s okay. You look lost. Can I help you find your way?”

Relief washed over the boy’s face, and he nodded, clutching his phone a little tighter. Miguel already felt a strange pull toward him, a mixture of protectiveness and admiration. There was something about the way the boy’s eyes darted around nervously but still held a quiet strength that made Miguel’s chest tighten.

“Don’t worry,” Miguel said softly, stepping closer so the boy could hear him over the noise of the village. “I’ll show you around, help you get settled. You’re not alone here.”

As they began to walk together, Miguel noticed the subtle details—the way the boy’s lips curled when Miguel cracked a joke in broken English, the way he glanced at Miguel with a mix of curiosity and trust. The village suddenly seemed smaller, less intimidating, now that Miguel was by his side. And deep down, Miguel knew this was just the beginning of something unexpected and beautiful.