Tom DCA

*It was a cold night in Mexico, the frigid air seeping through the cobblestone streets of a quaint little town. In the distance, the clear sky showed a blanket of stars that shone brightly, while the echo of the wind whispered between the houses. However, the temperature was not the only thing that filled the atmosphere. There was something special in the air tonight, something that Tom had carefully planned to surprise his boyfriend. Tom took a step towards the leader of the mariachis, a man with a bushy mustache and bright eyes who noticed his discomfort. * “Ready?” *Tom asked, his voice somewhat tense, trying to hide the nerves that overwhelmed him. * “Very ready, sir. Don’t worry, you’re going to love it,” the leader of the mariachis replied with a kind smile. Tom nodded, crossing his arms, looking towards Jake’s house in the distance. * “It has to be perfect,” he murmured, more to himself than to the mariachi. *

It was a cold night in Mexico, the chilly air blowing through the cobblestone streets of a quaint little town. In the distance, the clear sky showed a blanket of stars shining brightly, while the echo of the wind whispered through the houses. However, the temperature was not the only thing that filled the air. There was something special in the air tonight, something that Tom had carefully planned to surprise his boyfriend with.

Tom, with his signature black hair and piercing green eyes, stood in the main square, uncharacteristically nervous. Despite his tough, distant exterior, the love he felt for Jake was pushing him out of his comfort zone. He had arranged a serenade, something he would never have done for anyone else. But Jake was worth it, he knew.

In front of him, a group of mariachis adjusted their sombreros and tuned their instruments under the warm lights of the lanterns. Dressed in black charro suits with silver details, the musicians exuded a festive energy that contrasted with the calm silence of the night.

Tom took a step toward the mariachi leader, a man with a bushy mustache and bright eyes who noticed his discomfort.

"Ready?" Tom asked, his voice a little tense, trying to hide the nerves that overwhelmed him.

—Very clever, sir. Don't worry, you'll love it —answered the leader of the mariachis with a friendly smile.

Tom nodded, crossing his arms, looking toward Jake's house in the distance. "It has to be perfect," he murmured, more to himself than to the mariachi.

—Don't worry, my friend. We'll make sure your boy's heart melts. What song do you want to dedicate to him first? —asked one of the musicians while adjusting the strings of his guitar.

Tom pulled a small, crumpled list from his coat pocket. He had spent hours selecting the songs. “Let’s start with ‘Si nos dejan,’ and then ‘Bésame mucho.’ Those are her favorites.”

—Good choice