+ dos
"contigo tuve todo lo que yo soñé."
(with you i had everything i dreamed of."

"Enrique," Silvia suggested with a smile, "Why don't you show Anna to her bedroom and then the two of you can get started with your first lesson?"

He nodded his head and immediately did as she said, "Of course." 

Taking my bags from me like a gentleman and making me blush subconsciously, he gestured for me to follow him down the hall of the first floor. As we passed various doors and later turned right into another hallway, he began, trying to sound casual. "So, where are you from?" 

It was evident that he didn't really know how to talk to a girl. Not that he would ever need to, in the way that I was thinking. He was already married and communication with females was now foreign, scarce for him even. I remembered three years ago when it was announced all over the media that teen idol Enrique Guzman was getting married to the greatest actress of the Mexican golden era, Silvia Pinal. Though she was twelve years older than him and already thirty years old while he was about to be eighteen, he looked absolutely smitten with her. He was like a puppy following her around everywhere and always doing as she wanted.

There had been rumors going around that in reality they didn't want to get married--that it was more like a shotgun wedding because he had gotten her pregnant. But I thought those were just rumors without a basis. There was nothing to prove that to be true and I dismissed it as angry fans just making rumors that their beloved idol was getting married so young, and to an older woman no less. It had broken my heart when I found out. Nonetheless, I was happy for him because he seemed happy.

Even now that I was seeing him in his home as a married man, three years later, he looked happy to me. 

He was so young and his life was moving so fast. He was twenty one and with two kids already. He had gotten married at eighteen, and that was the same year he had left his band The Teen Tops, after being the bassist for one year and the lead singer for two years. He was the front man and the most popular member of the group. Everyone had been supportive of him when he decided to go solo. Many said that the split from the band had been Silvia's idea. She had always been the kind of actress who wanted the best of the best, and she didn't want her soon to be husband to share the earnings of his talent with anyone else. He was young and easy to manipulate, and she had convinced him to do whatever she wanted.

"The United States." I responded after a moment, with a nervous cough to clear my throat.

"Then how is it you speak Spanish?" He asked, his feet guiding him easily in the direction of my new bedroom. Despite being a great singer with a beautiful voice, and a musician who could play various instruments, he didn't seem to be very bright.

I linked my hands together, looking down at my feet nervously as I walked. My brain was wired to speak in English all the time and I really had to think hard to make all of my responses in Spanish. But I knew I would get used to it eventually. "My parents were born in here in Mexico, but they moved to the United States when they were young after studying business, translation, and communications at UNAM. And I was born in the United States, but my parents didn't want me to forget my roots so they taught me Spanish. It is my first language."

"I see." He mulled it over, biting his bottom lip.

"Do you speak any language other than Spanish?" I shot a question back at him. I swallowed hard the second the words escaped my lips and I hoped I hadn't sounded rude or like I was trying to pry into his life. I wanted to make a good impression on him. Not only because he would be my student, but because he was my idol. I had admired this man since I fourteen years old and having someone you admire dislike you was a terrible thing.

He smiled at me as he responded. "I always wanted to learn a second language. But I never had such luck, since I've always only lived in Spanish speaking countries. You see, I was born in Venezuela and lived there until I was twelve. Then I moved here. In a way, we're somewhat similar." He pointed out as the realization came to him. "My parents are from here, but my father was the ambassador to Mexico in Venezuela. So they moved there before I was born."

That was something new about him that I hadn't known before. It was always difficult to know things like that about the idols, unless they openly talked about it on television. Enrique Guzman was mostly private about his private life. 

"That's interesting." I said, side glancing at him shyly. With a sigh, I admitted, "I wish I could speak one more language though. The more you know when it comes to languages, the better. Something like French or Portuguese, maybe even Chinese."

It seemed that his smile had grown significantly at her words. With a light shrug, he told her, "I'd be more than happy to teach you a bit of Portuguese. I had friends at the foreign school in Venezuela who taught me a few basic phrases." But he didn't really count that as a language. He seemed to only want a point to keep the conversation going.

"Really?" I beamed with excitement.

He nodded. "Yes."

I jumped in front of him, my entire body overflowing with happiness. He stopped abruptly, startled by my sudden movement and when I threw my hands around him, he stiffened awkwardly at my touch. "Thank you. This is like a dream come true for me."

"Learning Portugese?" He asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

After a few seconds of my hold lingering on him for a bit, I let go. My smile didn't fade as I explained to him, "I admire you so much." I admitted with a blush creeping onto my face. "I even had a little crush on you when I was fourteen up until I was seventeen." I stopped talking when I realized I was rambling.

He muttered an awkward, "Thanks." 

And then he continued down the hall. We stopped in front of a last door in a dim lit hallway and he pushed the door open.

Setting my luggage down next to the doorway, he watched me closely. I noticed he seemed uncomfortable now, as if he didn't know what to do or say. Lifting my luggage up and setting it on the bed, I unzipped it and pulled out articles of clothes slowly. "You don't have to stick around here. You can go set up for our class."

He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Okay."

-

I walked down the hallway on my own, a small suit case of supplies hung from my hand. Now I regretted having told him that he could go. The house was huge and I didn't know which way to go or even where he would be waiting for me.

Wandering the hallways slowly, the halls were oddly darkened and I finally stumbled upon a door which was open just a crack. I peeked in curiously when I heard the familiar voices of Enrique and Silvia talking. His voice sounded strained and unsure as he told his wife, "Silvia, are you sure she's the best candidate for the job?" My eyes peeked into the room to see him clearly nervous.

Silvia nodded, "She has a perfect resume."

"Isn't she a little...young?" He questioned.

Again, Silvia defended me, and I was grateful for that. I didn't want to have come all this way for nothing. "She has a degree in translation and teaching, as well as a degree in child development. She is perfect for both the teaching and babysitting jobs we've been searching for."

"Maybe we should search for a more experienced person?" He asked.

Silvia placed her hands on her hips, an amused smile on her face. She was teasing him now. "Don't tell me a twenty year old girl intimidates you."

That was when I decided to knock on the door to make my presence known. Pushing the door open slightly, I said hesitantly, "Excuse me..."

"Yes?" Silvia smiled at me.

"I'm sorry." I offered with a slight bow of my head. "Was I interrupting something?"

She shook her head. She was so nice and polite, and it was nice to hear she had been defending me in my absence. "No, you weren't interrupting." Walking towards the door where I was standing, I stepped into the room to let her go past me. "I'll leave you two alone now."

"But Silvia-" Enrique tried to stop her. But she ignored him.

She closed the door behind herself and I clapped my hands together softly, clearing my throat. I cut the distance between us, setting my suitcase on his desk and opened it up. I let out a frustrated sigh when I noticed it was filled with crayons, coloring books, and children's learning materials.

He scoffed when he saw the materials in the suitcase. "Are you planning to teach me with that?"

I shook my head. "I brought the wrong one, this one's for the kids. If you could just wait a few minutes, I can run back to my room and grab the correct one."

I gestured towards the door, but he shook his head dismissively. "No, that's fine."

"I, I-" My eyes brimmed over with tears. I stopped myself from saying more, feeling a lump in my throat that wouldn't let me speak without my voice cracking.

When he noticed this, his eyes softened towards me. 

"Don't cry." He sighed.

I sucked in a breath to control myself. "I'm sorry. Maybe its the stress of moving to a new place where I don't know anyone. And now I've started out my job on the wrong foot because you hate me."

"Why do you think I hate you?" He asked me, confused.

"I heard you talking to your wife about me." I blurted out.

-

so here is chapter two of this story. please give it a read and a vote. though this is mostly for my own enjoyment tbh. 

there are literally zero enrique guzman stories on this sight. and since i wanted to see one, i thought i would write it myself. he is honestly such a talented artist and he used to be so young. 

he was already older when my parents were born, but my mom says that her sisters had posters of him in their rooms from when he was a teen idol and she thought he was handsome.

i hope you're all having a wonderful day.

-clary